I might as well drink a root beer

Truth is, I don’t like root beer, it taste awful. In fact I don’t like many soft drinks, I can stand the occasional Coke Zero and that would be it. If I want something fizzy, I’ll take soda water with lime juice in it anytime. Anyway, I’d much rather drink water, or wine, or gin tonic.

I was told by one of my staff today that I am intimidating because people don’t know anything about me outside of work aside from the fact that I run (obvious, I sometime do it at lunch), cycle, married and climb mountains. I don’t like mixing social life and work life, which is the reason why I keep my private life... private. Well this isn’t completely true either as some people in my firm know that I am degenerated, addicted to food, loving a good debate and have split personality: the office me, and the outside me. They even had the social experiment pleasure of hanging out with the outside me.

It’s not really in my nature to open up, there’s too much rubbish out there. Silly if you ask me - coming from a girl that has been keeping a blog that long. For the readership, here are some random facts:

I’m a cat lady. If I wasn’t married, I’d probably be forever single living in a tiny condo smelling like cat litter, surrounded by half a dozen of cute kitty.

Once I’d die in said condo, they’d probably nibble on my feet and eat half my body before I’d be found.

I like “men” men, looking rough, beard, bad boy stuff.

I also like when a men suit up. It look incredibly sexy (well, aside from my office buddy).

I think a 5 O’clock bearded D in a suit is a godsend gift to me and my primal instincts.

I probably think about sex as much as the average 16 years boys. I have no shame about it. There is a difference between thinking and acting on it.

I have never been a bridesmaid. I secretly want to. I’m now too old for it and it suck.

I am pretty intolerant, borderline racist toward fat people, I’d like to not be like that because it isn’t socially acceptable to call off someone about their lard, but I don’t give a rat ass about being socially acceptable.

My best friend is gay, she’s the sister I never had and I became a better person since I met her.

I feel guilty of not seeing my family as much. I think I’ll be the aunt they get to see once every two years and don’t care about.

As much as my mum and I have our difference, I incredibly love her but can’t get around saying it out loud to her.

There are friends that I left behind in Quebec that I miss, and there are some that I don’t.

I could eat hamburgers every day. Or prawns, or meat macaroni, or scallop potatoes.

I like to cook and bake as when I do, I don’t eat as much.

I hate olives.

Well... was that a relief? Certainly not. Will that makes you know me more.... perhaps if you can read between the lines, appreciate the irony and keep an open mind.