There's this meme going around on Facebook--if you're on Facebook, you've undoubtedly seen it--where you list twenty-five random facts about yourself and then "tag" twenty-five of your friends to do the same.
I've been ignoring it for a week but now it's to the point where at least twenty-five people have tagged me and I feel like that's a sign of something. And signs aren't to be ignored, so I'm going to try to think of twenty-five little gems of information about myself or my family, and get myself off the hook.
1. I've known Dug since I was 18. We didn't think much of one another back then.
2. Our entire relationship was made possible by technology. IM let us keep in contact all day at work, mobile phones with free long distance let us talk all evening. Cheap airfare let us see each other on the weekends. We dated pretty much like normal people for several months while living 800 miles apart.
3. When I was a really little kid, four or five at the oldest, my mom taught me how to walk with an encyclopedia on my head. She said it was to teach me good posture and that it's how models, whatever they were, learned to walk. Thirty years later I can walk up and down stairs, sit and stand, turn and come back, for an almost unsettlingly long time all without the book slipping. To date, nobody has asked me to model.
4. There are very few foods that I've tried that I really dislike, and I'm very open to trying anything once. That willingness has led me to the knowledge that sea urchin tastes just like it looks (baby poop), but whelk, on the other hand, tastes like heaven. Not like crusty booger at all! You just don't know unless you try things.
5. Over the years I've been trying to learn to like foods that I've never cared for. I'm almost there with both melon and olives--before, with both, I couldn't even pick them out of something and then eat it for most of my life. Now I can do that fine, plus I'm starting to appreciate them on their own. So if I get stuck on a deserted island whose main sources of food are cantaloupe and Kalamatas, I'm golden.
6. I admit it: I'm really disappointed that neither of the kids have red hair, STILL. Which is ridiculous, because I hated my hair as a kid--hated how conspicuous it was, how adults cooed over it while kids mocked it. Basically all I wanted to be when I grew up was a brunette.
7. Funnily enough, brown is the only color I've never dyed my hair.
8. What I *really* wanted to be when I grew up was a fashion designer. And then I fell into the "doctor/lawyer" trap and never got out. Now I understand that I wasn't ever doctor/lawyer brainy and that I should have been encouraged to sit under trees and draw all I wanted, but back then who knew anything about anything? I was encouraged to grow up and be something that made a lot of money.
9. I did not grow up to be anything that made a lot of money. I did make a decent amount of money for a while, but that was purely by accident. Or rather, purely based on chutzpah. What can I say, there was a booming economy back then. Companies had "vice presidents of fun", for pete's sake. Charm could take you very far in the 1990s.
10. Lately I've been thinking about the future a lot, which by the way is not as bright in the post-VP-of-Fun years. What could I be that is creative, flexible, and brings in more money than it costs? Nothing's come to mind yet.
11. DID YOU KNOW? that I am a big Star Wars geek? The kind who says things like "Well, that's not really canon, it was only in the comics". The prequels made me hate George Lucas so hard. So hard that I sometimes look at Skywalker Ranch on Google Earth and plot my revenge.
12. The kids got American Girl dolls for Christmas because I wanted one so bad. I'm not the least bit ashamed of it, either.
13. Another doll-related thing I'm not ashamed of: I played with my Barbies practically until high school. Toward the end it was less pretend play, more "I wonder if I can dress ten Barbies up to represent the ten decades of the 20th century?" type thing. But still, undeniably playing with Barbies at fourteen.
14. I miss my nosering.
15. I wear aprons when I cook. I've probably got a dozen or so, mostly vintage. I rotate through them.
16. I don't listen to the same music I liked when I was younger. Or rather, the bands I loved the most just don't resonate with me anymore, and some of them even sound embarrassingly bad (sorry, Depeche Mode, but it's true, your lyrics in hindsight are as bad as the poetry they inspired me to write at the time).
17. I have a kayak, and my own ski equipment. It puzzles me, but I've got the stuff, all right.
18. Cars Dug and I have had since we've been together: late 80's Acura, '00 Mustang, '66 Mustang, '71 VW Squareback, '68 and '74 BMW (and a couple of parts cars for those), '03 Jetta, '05 Element, '86 VW Cabriolet, '06 Odyssey, and '70 Ford pickup. Also three motorcycles and a travel trailer. And I'm probably forgetting one. We should really get to use some kind of special "high volume" window at the DMV.
19. Bikes are the new car at our house. See that list above? Now just imagine instead of numbers and the make of a car, it says "purple bike, red bike, free bike, garage sale bike" and ends with a dot-dot-dot because it's obvious the bike onslaught is never going to end.
20. I pretty much eat chips and salsa every day, at least a little bit.
21. I make my own cleaning supplies. It's mostly that I got sad about all the plastic bottles. It's also about my penchant for pretty smelly things in nice packaging, and recognizing this as an area in which I can decrease consumption and marketing influence (Fuck you, Mrs. Meyers!).
Also, and this is important: it lets me go around saying "I make my own cleaning supplies".
22. I dye my eyelashes. I do it myself with contraband imported dye that I order online. I still wear mascara on the top ones for thickening purposes.
23. You know what? I don't really like to go out. There, I've said it. I'm usually okay once I am out, but I don't like the going out part. I pretty much dread the whole thing until I walk into the door of wherever I'm supposed to be. This is why I almost never inititate "girls' night out". Because I don't want to go. Until I'm there. Then it's fine.
24. The first time I ever got drunk was with my friend Carrie, on screwdrivers, which we drank out of plastic Thundercats cups. We were fifteen or so, and we danced around outside singing in the street in front of my house. Isn't it good, Norwegian Wood?
25. I would have liked to have named one of the girls after my sister, but her name doesn't go with our last name, and by that I mean, it really would have sounded stupid. Local anchorperson stupid. I hope the thought counts, at least.