I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up

It's pretty normal for a child to change her mind several times when deciding on what she wants to be when she grows up. I'm special. I'm not sure I'll ever really figure out the answer to that question. I have compiled a short list of a few of the jobs I have wanted to have as a grown up.

If I want to get all psychoanalytical on myself, I'd say most of my choice professions share a few attributes in common: exclusivity, years of required schooling (I love school), and really cute outfits. The following is by no means an all inclusive list.

Palaeontologist
My interest in digging up and researching dinosaur bones came early in life. I loved dinosaurs and I loved digging. What would be a better job than to combine those two things?

Archaeologist
This stemmed from my interest in palaeontology. I soon became interested in much more than just bones. Jewels, gold, hairs of people from the past, and they would be ALL MINE...

Children's Author
I have a really twisted sense of humor...maybe too twisted for the kids...I once wrote a book about the toothfairy called, "The Unauthorized Biography of the Toothfairy". It was basically a story of how the toothfairy came to be....which included her losing her teeth in a war. This is not quite the reaction one would desire from telling a story to a child:

Concert Violinist
I actually did play for a local symphony for a season. I found that I can't really enjoy playing with the symphony. I found it hard to focus because I could not even hear myself. How was I going to become famous if no one could hear me?! Then, as if my inner diva isn't insulted enough, it is customary to dress in black. BLACK. I was trapped in a sea of boringly-dressed emo clones. 

Not even my mom could find me.

Doctor
I really want to be a surgeon. I love meticulous work, so I think I would really excel at brain or heart surgery. I would also be a good surgeon because I have superpower hyperfocusability. (thanks Mom!)  If I am in a hyperfocus I won't even see a T-Rex tap dancing in front of me in a top hat eating ice cream with sparkly ... well...maybe I might notice the sparkles....I do like sparkles...Okay, so there would be a 'no sparkly' rule in my O.R. I could do that, because I would be a doctor.

Added Bonus: Doctors have the ability to shout out that they need something STAT.

That guy needs arms STAT

Cowgirl
I'm not sure why, but I think always thought it would be super cool to walk around like this:

I think part of my problem is that I like school so much. When I am away from school, I find excuses to go back to school. I think this is going to be me in 30 years....

Lifetime Learner. Lost legs in Archaeological dig.

Hiding is not my forte

I know that I am supposed to be presenting you with one of my way-too-many car accident stories, but that is just depressing and I need a brake.  Do you like that? Not break, but brake? like car brakes? :O) Besides, it is not at all fun to draw rectangle cars and circle tires. By the way, weren't my tires awesome?

Okay, onto today's subject. Hiding with the intent to scare. My dad was able to successfully scare me hundreds of times by hiding in my room before I went to bed. You would think that his preparation and training that I would be able to withstand any one's attempt at scaring me and that I would have learned this sacred technique. Unfortunately, I missed something in those lessons. You see, I am an easy target. Don't ever throw a surprise party for me. YOU HEAR THAT? DON'T ...DO...IT...

I hope to gain some insight into why my scare tactics don't work. Maybe you can even make suggestions yourself. I have outlined some of my common techniques. I don't fear sharing these with you because I have never had a successful scare with any of them, therefore it won't ruin the moment in the case of a real scare attempt.

I think the problem arises when I have to wait long enough for me to imagine Anthony's the person's face when I scare them. I like to imagine that there will be some sort of scream or yelp associated with look of fear in the eyes and a jump back.

Intended result. Very funny. That's not Anthony.

Hide in the Closet
I like this technique. Hiding in a closet does not play into my claustrophobia. I can breathe in open air and am not confined to standing in one position.

Note to self: less coffee, also, think about something not funny. Like shoes. But shoes can be funny....crap.

Behind the Door
This isn't a bad idea, because who would expect someone to randomly pop out from behind the door? I don't like this as much because I have to hold very, very still. I think that it looks like this when I hide:

But in reality, it probably looks more like this:

Not so stealthy

Beside the Bed

What I think I look like

Reality

Hiding under the Covers

Again, what I think I look like

Reality

Suggestions, anyone?

P.S. To the person who almost gave me a heart attack this morning, beware. I am about to get the best advice ever and you, Anthony PERSON, should be scared.

P.P.S. To the readers of my car accident series, I will try to continue that tomorrow. I have to allow myself to recover from too much rectanglage.

Hello Internet

So *obviously....I have started a blog. Here's what contributed to the birth of Candi Corn in my Belly:

Allie, the author of hyperboleandahalf, has had me laughing my pants off for about a week now. I think she would approve of this since she is an advocate of not wearing pants. Anyhow, I am inspired by her blog and would like to have an outlet for all of my hilarity. I mean, I laugh at my jokes. Often times I notice that it is only I who is laughing. But I'm okay with that. I can read my blog all day long and laugh. Though there will be some obsessing over who else may or may not be laughing.

I shared the aforementioned blog with my mom and she said, "you should start a blog, you are just as funny as her." Thanks, Mom! I do realize that she is biased, but I don't care. If anything, I will at least have ONE follower. :D Yay me.

When I told my best friend that I was starting a blog, he didn't say anything. Then when I asked what I should name it, he said, "oh, you're serious?!" Really? Am I that flaky? Well, yes, I realize I can be...but this is to prove him WRONG. Myuahahahahaha. What I do slightly worry about is whether or not he is playing that reverse psychology crap on me. But then my mind starts going in circles and it makes my brain hurt.

The title. I realize it's random. Anthony told me to name it "Candi's Corner", as my name is Candice and it would be like my corner or something? Are there corners on the internet? Because I was under the impression that it was boundary-free or something. Or at the very least, a 'web' but then webs have corners I suppose. No, don't think I'm dumb. I get his title. But it sounded boring to me and if I stumbled upon a similarly named blog I might just pass it up because it sounds lame. No offense to the "so and so's corners" out there. Just saying your blog's name is lame, not your blog. And I wouldn't read it. And no one else probably would. Except those people's mothers. So anyway....I stuck with the Candi (remember, Candice) and I like candy corn. and I nicknamed my daughter Belly. And you can put candy in a belly. and ...yeah. I don't know. Maybe my name is lame and the only viewer or subscriber I will gain is MY mom. Then the "so and so's corner" people can all laugh at ME because somehow they convinced more people to subscribe to THEIR lame-named blogs.

That is all. I must meditate now and ..... okay so Anthony just asked me AGAIN, "are you blogging, really?" He is just SOOO surprised that I had the ability to focus and do this for 10 minutes. Well, well Anthony. Game is ON.

More tomorrow.