Queen of Sketchiness

Every once in a while, I tell a story to coworkers or friends and realize how strange I really am. Or how much of a weirdo I was as a kid. I grew up with very exciting and adventurous people with plenty of stories that can one-up mine so I lived in a bubble of unawareness. Thinking about how I was as a kid and what I morphed into, ultimately has made me realize how sketchy I have become. I was in Arizona last week and asked my mom if she was ever concerned about me as a kid. Her response, "No, you were extremely intelligent and everyone loved you." Here was the evidence I presented her with:

Exhibit #1:
I am the oldest child and grandchild. When my younger brother was born I loved him but also would've been very happy if he mysteriously disappeared. I played it hot and cold with him, I would shower him with love and then attempt to get rid of him. I would ride my baby brother like a horse, or drag him by a limb into my bedroom and pile all my stuffed animals on him. My mom said that she couldn't ever leave us alone because she was afraid of what I would do. A few years later, brother and I wanted a pet fish. I begged mom to buy us betas so I could train mine to kill Brother's. Sociopath alert.

Exhibit #2:
When I was in Kindergarten, I wanted to do two things, just for fun: One-steal cars, Two-cock fight. You might remember how I had my dream jobs of becoming a stripper or bartender. But my other two activities were just "hobbies" that I was convinced I would be great at. In fact, to practice stealing cars, I took a wire coat hanger and went to town on my parents key hole of their old Honda. Needless to say, it did not go over well and I had to confess my wrong doings before my parents called the police to report an attempted break in (and bent key hole).

About the same time, I walked in to my parents watching a show on cock fighting. I was sucked in and decided that I could be the best cock fight trainer there ever was. My conversation with my mom went like this:
Me: "Mom, I have to do that. I would be SO good at it."
Mom: "Do what?"
Me: "I need a chicken so I can train it to fight."
Mom: "It's a rooster and you can't do that."
Me: "Why not?! I could do it and be so good at it."
Mom: "Shelene, it's terrible. They put sharp things on the roosters and train them to fight. The roosters get so hurt that they usually die. It is really sad, mean, and inhumane."
Me: "I guess that's sad.........(long pause)....(creepy voice)... But, my chicken would kill all the other chickens."

Mom said that she was a little concerned about that incident.

Exhibit #3:
When I was staying with my G'ma, I would get passed around a lot while she was at work. I have an aunt/bff the same age as me and we usually would end up taking off or playing together. Our favorite activity was to find money (usually on my grandpa's dresser) and go get ice cream. We lived in a small town and would wander until we found a store or ice cream shop. After we would eat our treats, we would stop by at our favorite spot, the cemetery. We would steal flowers off the other graves and put them on our "family member's." Really, we just found people with the same last name as us and put the flowers on them. This was usually accompanied by some fake tears and made up stories about how much we loved them. After we were done mourning our ancestors, we would lay in to grass and stare at cloud shapes, and sometimes take a nap.
It wasn't until later in life that I realized most kids didn't hangout in cemeteries and steal other peoples' flowers.

Present day:
Just a few weeks back, I gave a tutorial at work on how to watch TV shows and movies online. And how to easily and illegally download music.
 As hard as I try, I just can't shake the sketchy. What can you do?  :)