How long were you standing there?

Have you ever stopped to think about all of the weird things we humans do when we are alone?

I mean, dogs lick their crotches in public. Cats bathe in public. I've seen horses with erections, birds having what I can only assume was intercourse, and hamsters eat their young.

But as humans, we are too socially aware. We create multiple personalities for public image.

I don't go to Walmart, stand in front of the big mirrors, and dance around like I'm auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance. Of all of the crazy things I've seen in Walmart, this was never one of them. I do, however, pretend that the mirror in my bedroom is Nigel Lythgoe and according to him my out of rhythm booty popping gets a ticket straight to Vegas!

So why not in public? You could not pay me! It doesn't matter that I know everyone has their quirks and everyone does crazy things when they are alone. What matters is that they are not in the habit of showing me theirs, so I'm not showing mine.

Until now.

Here is my list of crazy, weird, strange, odd, quirky habits that I may be willing to tell you about, but you will never see in person.

1. Dancing. I'm not talking about music blaring, moving to the rhythm, out with friends and having a good time. I'm talking about making dinner while trying to do the running man in the kitchen. Dropping it in the handicap dressing room to test out the new clothes. Being so bored that you decide to waltz with yourself to the music in your head.
2. Facial expressions. Smile. Don't smile. Daydream about your crush and get a goofy grin on your face in the middle of a family dinner. Oops. I wasn't alone then. Getting so caught up in a book that you laugh out loud when the character is laughing and tense up with righteous indignation when they are angry. Why are you watching me read, you weirdo?? 
3. Grooming. I don't have a mustache. I swear I don't have a mustache! That wax is strictly for my eyebrows!! Don't look at me like that.
4. Wandering eyes. When I think, you know try to come up with ideas because doesn't constantly run in a straight line, my eyes cross, roll, and do a whole bunch of acrobatic tricks I'm not sure eyes should be doing. Am I staring at you? No, I'm staring through you.
5. And let's not forget testing out cute picture looks in the mirror, picking your teeth or nose (hopefully not with the same finger), getting into an argument with your wall and saying the things you wish you would have said to that nasty co-worker who took you by surprise, sniffing your armpits to make sure you don't smell, and everything else I missed because I am only one person who can't perform every weird act when alone.

Did I mention that I often stumble over thin air? You didn't see that. I'm serious, if you want your face to stay intact, you DIDN'T see that!

Who am I?

I am following in the footsteps of every Philosophy major, Psychiatrist, spiritual guru, and notoriously "quotable" celebrity out there. I should add aspiring author and self-proclaimed writer and poet to the list as well.

Who am I? The impossible question everyone with an ounce of self-reflection asks his or her self at one point or another. Is this my first time asking? At 26? No. I've wondered all my life. I've asked, thought about it, and had clearly defined terms that I continuously changed as I grew older.

I'm a kid. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A student. An enemy. A loner. Awkward. Intelligent. Scared. Jaded. Nice. Quiet. Vindictive. Loud. Overwhelming. Dramatic. Crazy. Seemingly helpless with a core of inner strength.

I could go on forever. I am all of those things. Yet, I am none of them.

It is a trick question. There is no answer. I cannot tell you who I am, just as you could never tell me who you are.

Is my Zodiac sign eerily correct? Yes. Is that who I am? If so, then I am the same person as a twelfth of the world. They took twelve individuals and cloned them billions of times. That sounds legit.

Do I have certain personality traits? Yes. Do I exhibit them all of the time? No. Everyday I am a new person. I am a different person. Maybe I have a Multiple Personality Disorder and I really am a different person every day! Although some could argue this case, I'm inclined to go with: uh, no.

Is who I am dependent on what I do? God, I hope not! That would mean that I am literally a couch potato. Has anyone ever put a potato on a couch and left it there? Really, where did this expression come from? Digression over.

I am what I eat? Part cow, chicken, potato, and creamed spinach. Without turning this into a discussion about my incredibly weird and horrible diet, I would have to say that makes me a possible Frankenstinian experiment on Veggietales.

What about the facts? My name. My birthdate. My address. Eye color. Hair color. Weight. Height. I am a non-smoker, social drinker who lives with family, is currently unemployed, and as far as anyone knows, single. Is this who I am? Yes... and no.

I think Margaret Mead put it best: "Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else."

I am a human being. I share the same emotions, thoughts, worries, and dreams as everyone else. What makes me unique is how I choose to express those things. Is it always in the same way? No. Do you ALWAYS cry when you are sad? Do you ONLY think positive thoughts? Is one dream ENOUGH for you?

Who am I? I am me. And that is the most honest answer I can give you.