January 14th, 2008
|01:31 pm - 10 Weird Facts About Me (meme)|
I was tagged for this waaaaay back in December by dodger_winslow, and only discovered that I'd been tagged last week. So. Late, but here you go.
Rules: Each player of this game starts off with 10 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 10 weird habits/things/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you need to choose 10 people to be tagged and list their names.
I'm tagging people, but if you don't want to, don't do it.
Ten Things You Don't Really Need To Know About Me
1. My parents homeschooled me from the 3rd grade through the end of high school. I resented the hell out of this for the first year or so—I was a fairly social child, and the loss of spending every day with my friends was a blow. I made my mom’s life miserable.
Once I got used to spending my days at home, with my family, though, I realized the advantages to the situation. For one thing, I could read as much as I wanted, and our school work usually only took about 4 hours (if we were focused), which left a LOT of time for indulging my bookworm side. And when I hit junior high/high school age, I was pleased as punch to forego the crap my friends in public school were suffering through.
2. I somehow managed not to hear the word “fuck” until I was about 15. No, I am not kidding. I have a distinct memory from about 13-14 years of age, hearing an adult mention “the f-word” and realizing that I had no idea what word she was avoiding by calling it that.
3. I was introduced to Dorothy Sayer’s Lord Peter Wimsey mystery novels when I was 14, and read them repeatedly over the next several years. I reread Gaudy Night when I was 20, and had just fallen in love for the first time in my life. Imagine my shock when I discovered that I had fallen for a guy who essentially WAS Lord Peter, in all the personality quirks that counted.
4. I learned the American Sign Language finger alphabet when I was about 8 years old, and I’ve studied ASL somewhat since then. I’m not fluent, but friends and family (especially my roommates) often catch me using random signs for emphasis, or fingerspelling words if I’m thinking hard about something. I used to do that while sitting in university lectures, spelling key words to myself with my left hand while taking notes with my right. Never lost the habit. In fact, it’s ingrained enough that when I woke up after having my wisdom teeth removed, I answered the nurse and my dad with my hands, because my mouth was uncomfortable to move. Didn’t even occur to me that they wouldn’t understand what I was saying.
5. I had (technically, still have, in a box somewhere) a collection of about 30 dolls, ranging from the rag doll my mom made me when I was 2 through baby dolls, a couple of porcelain ones, etc. Each had her own name and personality, and I knew who was better friends with who, and who would always fight with who, and I played with them every day until I was about 14. (Often these adventures involved rescuing my children from kidnappers , or adopting a bunch of orphans and going on the run from a hostile government. I’m kind of surprised that I don’t write more dystopian fiction.)
6. You know those dreams that everyone seems to have? Being naked in front of class at school, being chased by a monster but unable to run, flying? I rarely have those sorts of dreams at all. I’ve never dreamed I was flying, which makes me sad (and occasionally makes me wonder about my psyche, if Freud was right about flying dreams). What I do dream are long, plotty, action-adventure stories. Not all the time, but far more often than not.
7. I’m 27 years old and still a virgin. Never even been kissed. (Kindergarten kisses do not count, okay?)
8. My brain has an alarm system for letting me know when an acquaintance has crossed the line and become a friend. I find myself imagining what it would be like to lose them, whether that means moving away or death or whatever. It’s not a conscious choice I make; I simply find my brain pondering those scenarios, and that’s how I know someone has become truly important in my life.
I find this absolutely impossible to do regarding my immediate family, my parents and my 6 younger siblings. I can’t make my imagination go there at all. It makes me physically sick.
9. My sense of smell is nearly nonexistent. I’m not sure whether that has to do with my actual nose, or the connections between my nose and my brain. I see smoke in the air before I can smell the dinner burning. However, I do sometimes catch other scents—I just can’t identify them, nor does my brain pay much attention to them. Because of this, I do not use scented lotions nor do I wear perfume. I can’t tell how strong it is or if the scents blend well, so I don’t even try.
I’m pretty sure this lack is one reason why I love (and always have loved) strong flavors. Thai, Mexican, Korean food; lots of garlic; dry wines, gin rather than vodka.
10. In this age of electronics, I still write most of my rough drafts in longhand. I used to use pencil, but now it’s usually pen (gel if I can get it, because gel pens write quickly without losing the integrity of their ink).
I tag: whitemartyr, jedibuttercup, kalquessa, feliciakw, jd3000, sarcasticval, kerravonsen, rose_in_shadow, mistraltoes, and jhall1.
2. Amusing anecdote: the first person in my family to learn the f-word was my brother, who learned it when he was probably eight or so (I would have been ten-ish). He learned it from another kid at Vacation Bible School. My mom still has not gotten over this.
(Often these adventures involved rescuing my children from kidnappers , or adopting a bunch of orphans and going on the run from a hostile government. I’m kind of surprised that I don’t write more dystopian fiction.)
And this comes at a good time, because I am bored! *goes off to do meme*
LOL to your brother learning that word at VBS. I'm rather surprised I didn't learn it from some of the neighborhood kids I hung out with.
I shall look forward to your list!
7. I’m 27 years old and still a virgin. Never even been kissed. (Kindergarten kisses do not count, okay?)
Same here. Though I won't be 27 till April... I'm actually still friends with my "first kiss" (age 4)!
Random facts are fun.
Hey, you're almost exactly a year younger than me! :-) (Awww...if we're counting kiddie kisses, my first kiss was also when I was 4-ish. Haven't seen him in years though.)
My sense of smell is nearly nonexistent.
Huh, that's really interesting. Does any one else in you family have the same thing?
I knew a girl in college who had no sense of smell at all. She ate things based on texture, rather than taste.
As far as I know, nobody else in my family is handicapped this way. My dad and one of my brothers, actually, have much sharper-than-normal senses of smell. And I must have some sense of smell, because my sense of taste (other than running to strong flavors) isn't bad, and I can tell the difference when I've got a head cold. *shrug* It's just so weird!
Eating based on texture? Dude. *is fascinated*
Heh. I rather think that for the girl I knew, it was a genetic anomoly. She used to be Amish and was from a small community. Ahem. I think I'll stop there. LOL.
My sense of smell works great, but the defining factor for foods I hate is ALWAYS texture.
Interesting. Texture has played a major role in exactly one hate I have: beer. The taste I could get used to, I think; but the texture is fuzzy and weird and I much prefer "clean" tastes in my alcoholic beverages.
I can't eat a bean to save my life ... I throw them back up if I even try. The only exception is green beans, because they don't have that "bean" texture. I've been like this all my life, and the really funny thing is that NONE of my famiy gets it. The only one who does is my best friend (sometimes my hubs has a clue), and she can always predict what I'm not going to touch with a ten foot pole just because she knows that textures I can't get past my teeth.
I remember up until I was about 12, 13, or 14, somewhere around the end of middle school/beginning of high school, I would refuse to utter the f-word. I rationalized to myself that I could curse like a sailor with every other one of them, and I did, but I would not cross that line. Then one day I realized how ridiculous that was. Sometimes I wish I hadn't because these days I won't monitor it as much and it'll be uttered in less than favorable circumstances. Like around children. Small ones. Not good.
Hey, you've got 13 years before you match the movie. I myself still have 17 and a half. Though I know some of us care more about that than others. Something else I think I unfortunately left behind in my high school years.
Hey, you've got 13 years before you match the movie.
Heh. My roommate dragged me a screening of that film; I have no love for the genre "sex farce." And I spent a lot of the screening blushing and looking at the floor. But I came out of it loving the main character, and rather astonished that anyone in current Hollywood would bother making a sex farce that rather strongly preaches the virtues of abstinence. :-)
Longhand? Seriously? Wow. I can't even imagine. I can't even deal with a typewriter any more. If I didn't have my laptop, I'd spontaneously combust.
The sense of smell thing ... freaky. I have chemical allergies so I am hyper-sensitive to certain smells that are created with certain chemicals (they give me migranes), which has certain really weird aspects to it ... like I can (honest here, I am NOT exaggerating) smell someone wearing a platex deoderant tampon at 100 feet. I'm not kidding. And the really funny thing is? The chemical they use in that deoderant is the same chemical they use in Liz Claiborne's perfume. So for me, they smell exactly alike ... and both give me instant migranes. I've always had clauses in my employment agreements that allow me the authority to tell someone to stop wearing a perfume if it has that chemical in it (and have equally refused a couple of jobs in my life because someone already working there wore a perfume based with that chemical, and I didn't feel it was fair to come into a job and ask for that kind of change, as compared to requiring that kind of change from an incoming employee to a place I already worked, or requring that someone changing to that kind of perfume not do so in the agency.)
Luckily, I've always been both high enough in the authority structure to make those things conditions of my accepting the job, and I've never had to deal with it in the tampon department ... although there was one woman I worked with in an agency that I never took meetings with for 3 or 4 days out of every months, and I would always vanish whenever she got anywhere near my office on those same days. But she never knew why ... although several of my employees did. LOL!
But when you have a chemical allergy like that, it invalidates any other smell. A single drop of Liz Clairborne perfume in an auditorium-sized room will give me a migrane, and I'll be able to tell you exactly who is wearing it ... that's how overpowering the smell is to me, simply because of my hyper-sensitivity to the smell involved. When Liz's perfume was all the rage? I used to have to leave restaurants and movie theaters all the time because someone would walk in wearing her perfume, and I couldn't stay.
And I have food allergies that do the same thing, for the same reasons (they are migraine triggers). I can tell that there is one teeny-tiny piece of green pepper in a pizza just by taking a bite ... it poisons the whole pizza for me. And even the smallest squeeze of lemon juice in any food will do the same thing. It makes the whole dish taste like I'm eating nothing but a huge lemon rind ... and gives me a screaming-meemie migraine within 30 minutes.
Whack, eh? :D