Thursday, May 10, 2007

8 Random Things You Probably Don't Care to Know About Me.

I'm not much for the "Thursday Thirteen," if only because I'm shockingly sloth-like and slackery in my bloggage, and whenever Thursday rolls around -- no matter how good my intentions were on Wednesday night -- I can't...quite...bring myself to expend the energy necessary to come up with thirteen things that are somehow related.

But a random eight? I could maybe manage that.

Nobody actually tagged me to do this, you understand. That's because I have no friends. Yes, it's true. And when I'm done making my little list, I'm gonna go off in the corner of the garden and eat worms. See if I don't. :p

But I picked it up from Paperback Writer, so blame her if you slip in the Coma of Drooling Boredom before you get to the end, 'k?

Da Rulez:

* Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about him/herself.
* People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
* At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
* Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

Okay. So.

1. I've lived in my current abode for 17-and-a-half years, which is longer than anyone in my immediate family of origin (father, mother, two sisters) has ever lived in one place. Yeah, we moved around quite a bit when I was growing up. So did my parents when THEY were growing up, apparently.

2. My husband and I come from what some people call "working class" backgrounds. Hardworking immigrants, in my husband's case. In my case? Mostly poor Yankee trash. Of our four parents, only one (my mother) graduated high school.

And yet? My husband has an M.D. behind his name, and I would've finished that graduate degree if I hadn't wanted to have babies more.

3. Despite the M.D. behind my husband's name, he neither plays golf nor drives anything fancier than a 2002 Honda. Which we JUST finished paying off, praise the Lord, and THAT means I MIGHT be able to replace the rusty minivan I've been driving since Christ left Chicago. Maybe. year. If we don't go to Greece to visit the relatives this summer.

4. Instead of golf, my husband plays the guitar (okay, let me amend that...he plays one of over twenty guitars/mandolins/violins/mandocellos) and collects vintage amplifiers and other musical equipment, which he stores in various, ever-changing nooks and crannies around our 1500-square-foot rancher, causing me to swear long and loud when I trip over something in the dark and bruise my very sensitive toes.

He also collects vintage polyester leisure suits and platform shoes which he buys on ebay. (We don't have room for THEM either.) And he's recently begun growing out his salt-and-pepper hair to well past his shoulders. Sometimes he wears it in a ponytail. Other times, he lets it flow, giving him a decidedly "Jesus of Nazareth: The Mid-life Crisis Years" look. But least it's not a motorcycle, which is what I tell people when they ask. And they do. Ask, that is.

5. Okay, I know, this is supposed to be about ME. You can tell how comfortable I am with THAT topic, can't you?

6. I'm a graduate of a women's college. In the middle of nowhere. Literally. Four years with four hundred hormonal females. Trapped on a tiny, rural campus, which was often buried in snow.

It was a life-shaping experience.

7. I've been sitting here ten minutes now, trying to think of two other things that might be of interest, and I can't even come up with ONE. God, when did I get to be the most boring person I know?

8. Oh! Oh! I know. I like to take long, loooong (miles-long) walks...but only after dark. Preferably after 10PM. There's something about the peace of night that settles me. Plus, I hate the sun more and more as I get older. Check back in five years to see if I've finally joined the ranks of the Undead.

Criminy, that was hard. I tag only three: Barb, Eva, and Watcher_Don, because after all that effort I don't have the energy to go around commenting on eight separate blogs. See above re: sloth-like and slackery. - Romance of Dubious Virtue


Blogger Eva Gale said...

Heh heh heh.

I am so boring you have no idea.

5/10/2007 10:52 AM  
Blogger Selah March said...

At least you're still all young and NUBILE.

I'm feeling particularly crotchety and aged this morning.

5/10/2007 11:02 AM  
Blogger Eva Gale said...

thirty six is not nublile. and all I was missing was the broom today, I have people who can swear by it.

5/10/2007 6:15 PM  
Blogger Eva Gale said...

36 isn't NUBILE either. *snerk*

5/10/2007 6:16 PM  
Blogger Selah March said...

It's five years more nubile than 41. :p

5/10/2007 6:29 PM  
Blogger Jean said...

And ten and five years, respectively, more nubile than 46.

#8 is exactly me since I was twelve years old (except it was before 9:30 pm in those days).

Someday you'll miss something about being 36 and 41, so try to enjoy it. As for the broom? I have it over here. Permanently. ;)

5/10/2007 7:03 PM  
Blogger Ann(ie) said...

The best thing about being 36 is that I'm finally growing into my figure. When I was 18, everyone was thin and svelte, everyone but me.

Now I'm still the same size, but it's okay. When I'm a grandma it will be even better because who doesn't love fat little old ladies who bake the best cookies ever?

5/14/2007 9:44 PM  

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