It dawned on me the other day that what I portray on my blog is not always every little aspect of who I am.  Not that I believe everything in my personal life should be portrayed on a very public blog.. there are just several parts of my personality that aren't shown on my blog.  Why?  Let's face it 95% of all bloggers are perfect.  Or pretty close at least.  Or pretend to be.  So when you aren't perfect.. you stick out like a sore thumb.

What do I mean by this?

Well...

I cuss, a lot.  Especially when I am drinking.  Which I also enjoy doing.. and I don't always drink wine either.. I like beer.  And rum.  My house is hardly every completely clean.  I try my hardest to keep the living room and kitchen clean because that is what people see.. not the master bedroom or bathroom (which I just cleaned this weekend after well. a bit.  It was not fun, at all.)  I love outdoorsy country things.. but lets face it. I was raised in a suburb.. and I don't always wear camo and cowboy boots.  I do however always listen to country music.  Always.  I have a crafts closet.  But I couldn't tell you the last time I actually crafted.  I'm still not always 100% sure about my major.  At this point though I am just powering through to be done with it.  I'll use it, just not absolutely positive how yet.  I love to think about working out.. but when I have the opportunity to do it, I don't because it requires me sweating.. and then showering.. and by the time I'm done with all of that two hours have gone by.  It literally is that lame of an excuse.  I'm horrible at being anywhere on time.  In order to make it on time I have to give myself close to 15 minutes extra time.  I'm sarcastic and a wise-ass.  Love it or hate it.  Before we got Piston, my parents didn't think I was responsible enough to have a pet.  Probably because every time I got a beta fish my mother had to take care of it.  I have tattoos and piercings.  I was born and raised a Catholic, and still identify as one.  But I question things every once in awhile, and I'm probably the worst Catholic ever as a result.  I'm scared to raise children away from my family in Kansas.  So far my life has not turned out how I figured it would, at all.  I didn't go to a 4 year university straight out of high school.  I didn't graduate college before getting married.  I didn't get a degree in teaching.  I don't live in Kansas anymore.  I didn't have a big wedding in a church with a party after.  But you know what, it's better than I expected.  I have horrible skin.  Not only am I a redhead that burns easily, my skin also breaks out a lot.  The only saving grace is my burns do turn to tans.  I love my handwriting.  I'd rather write in agenda, carry an address book and write a thank you then use my phone calendar, phone contact book and e-mail to thank someone.  I still can't quite see myself as a mother.  Someday.. like when I'm pregnant maybe... but not now at this moment.  I don't want to trade my car in because it's a stick shift and my next car will be an automatic.  I won't be unique anymore.  Everyone complements my hair color, but it's not always been peaches being a redhead.  Pretty much every guy I've ever met has called me a name associated with it.  And that is not an exaggeration.  I have road rage.  Like screaming at a car like they can hear me road rage.  I can't cook.  I don't have a desire to cook.  There are very few foods I like.  Cause I'm picky.  I'm ambidextrous.  Write, shoot a gun, fish and eat with my left hand.  Use scissors, vacuum and throw a ball with my right hand.

In a nutshell.. I am far from perfect..

Why is it that we try and portray ourselves as perfect when we aren't?