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Considering the fact that I’m a day late and a dollar short with my blog posts, I figured I might as well cheat today and just let you in on something.

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Don’t worry..there’s not a body buried in the desert somewhere, and I’ve never been a secret agent, evil nemesis, psychic OR sidekick. Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I’ve never won a poker tournament, wrangled cobras, or strutted down a runway in Milan.

Shocking, I know—especially the part about my having never been a 5’4 supermodel.

But I digress.

Anyhoo, here it is in a nutshell:

I’m quirky.

Seriously.

The fact has been confirmed once or twice in my adult life by THE EXPERTS. You know THE EXPERTS, don’t you?

Of course, you do. Those exceptionally well-laced “Martha Stewart’s wet dream in a Royal Copenhagen China pattern, wearing two-inch kitten heels and a tastefully navy blue Republican power suit along with a colorful blouse from White House Black Market underneath just for flare” kind of “we put the Step in Stepford” gals?

Apparently, I still color outside the lines. With markers. And I generally have a slightly loopy grin on my face from sniffing ’em. The licorice one is to die for.

Yep. It’s incontrovertible.

Whacky. Quirky. Goofy.

Moi.

Although, I generally prefer to think of it as off-kilter in an incredibly charming “equal parts Shakespeare and Animaniacs” creative-lunatic sort of way.