It has been a while since a meme has made it my way, but Herr Freezio has tagged me and I must oblige. As I've said before I kinda like memes because it eliminates the need to think of something to write about, which is about 70% of the challenge of writing. Only 10% of the remainder is actually writing--the rest is coming up with a clever headline and finding juvenile things to link to.
This one requires me to reveal six
unsightly offensive weird things about myself you may not know. There's not a lot I've held back about on this blog, so I don't know if any of the stuff below is actually news or not. But whatever...if you've read this far you're already committed and compelled to read on.
- I'm divorced. Oodgie is not the first to suffer the slings and arrow of life with CroutonBoy. I was married for about two years (although we weren't together that whole time) and nearly alienated all my friends and family in the process of holding that colossal mistake together. But it was a painless, amicable split, and I tend to forget it ever happened. I sorta saw it coming when we spent hours having conversations like, "if we ever split up, I'd like to keep that rug." Are you having that conversation with your spouse? Call me...we should talk.
- I sometimes cry at movies. I got a little misty at the end of Pan's Labyrinth. Pretty much any tearful goodbye between a parent and child has a high risk of squeezing a couple drops out of the waterworks. And Field of Dreams? Fuggedaboutit. I'm usually pretty good at sucking it up (a trick I use is to laugh at the crying people around me) and still vastly prefer to watch things blow up. I'm just sayin' that I'm not afraid to
be a pussyexplore my sensitive side every once in a while.
- I'm totally anal about my books. I can't stand it when people break the spine of a book, even a cheap paperback. I take off the dust cover when I read them because I don't want it to tear or get smudged. I arrange the books on the shelf by size and color, but try to get books of similar styles together when possible. I never lend them because you might not give them back. Want to read a book for free? Go to the library. Just stay away from my shelves.
- It takes all my self-control not to correct Cheeky when she plays with stickers. I was the kid who recreated the picture with the Star Trek Colorforms exactly as it appeared on the back of the package. When Cheeky sticks a fire engine in the sky I sometimes, when she's not looking, unpeel it and put it back on the ground. She then proceeds to cover it with a bear or an octopus, which makes me wince. There is something seriously wrong with me.
- I have terrible vocabulary recall. You know how you'll try to think of a word, and you'll know you've used it, and can even almost sort of picture it in your mind, but you just can't quite remember what it is? I do that all the time. With really common words, like "cupcake". It's a bitch when I'm writing, but I've usually got thesaurus.com handy. It's worse when I'm talking. I'll either go silent for a few seconds and get the look of a dazed chimp, or I'll be talking so fast I'll insert the wrong word, like "tomorrow" instead of "yesterday", "thinger thinger" instead of "remote control", or "Bob Saget" instead of "spoon." It's like talking to Borat, except it's funny-sad instead of funny-haha.
- I was born with a prehensile tail and blue skin. As a child my looks forced me to join the circus, where I trained as an acrobat, using my unique "skills" to entertain paying throngs in Bavaria. In puberty I developed a mutant power to teleport by opening a portal into another dimension, travelling through it via an unconscious direction-finding sense, and returning to this dimension. It was only after local villagers discovered my power and, believing me to be a demon responsible for several local killings, cornered me and were about to kill me. Fortunately, the Professor had come to recruit me for his secret band of mutant heroes, and he froze the villagers and rescued me. I've fought for justice ever since.
Since I'm required by blog law to tag people (otherwise the Nigerian prince or the girl with cancer will die!) I'll tag Mr. Big Dubya (because he hates memes) and everyone reading this who lives in Wisconsin.