I done been tagged by Naynay. (That link'll take you to her new blog, while the one in my sidebar will take you to the old blog because Blogrolling.com is in rehab or some shit. I might break up with them.) Anyway, here are the rules:
A) You must write 10 honest things about yourself that are interesting.
B) Pass the award along to 7 other bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of Honest Scrap.
It's the "interesting" part that's gonna trip me up, I just know it.
- I don't like ugly children. Not kids who obviously have development issues or cleft palates or anything like that. I mean, I'm not that evil. I'm talking about garden variety bad-combination-of-genes ugly children. What's more, I worry that if I have a kid and he's ugly, I won't be able to tell. Because sometimes I think that parents of ugly children must know, deep down inside, that their kid is no pageant winner, but what if they don't? Or what if I do realize my kid is ugly and can't love them right? Please, future child o' mine, please don't be fugly. Mommy is kind of shallow. Daddy too, since we're being honest.
- I pissed myself one time when I was a kid. Which is not all that strange, but you have to understand that I was quite past the age where things like that should be happening. All I can say is that I asked my (bitch-ass) art teacher if I could go pee and she told me to hold it, and then when class (and school) was over I didn't have to go any more, until I was on my way home and then I DID RIGHT THEN AND THERE THAT VERY SECOND. I had to go into a Burger King bathroom and change into my gym suit when it was not gym suit weather so I looked weird ... to say the least. It was quite possibly one of the most mortifying moments in my entire life, and I can't believe I just told the entire internet. Now anytime I meet one of you, you'll swear up and down (though hopefully you won't say it) that I smell like pee. Awesome.
- One of my feet is ever so slightly larger than the other. I can tell because whenever my shoes hurt my feet, lefty always gets the brunt of it.
- I sweat like a pig, even in the winter. And here's the thing: once I really get going, I don't stop for, like, hours even if I'm sitting completely still. And on the other end of the spectrum we have my mother, who can get away with not wearing deodorant at all. Even after working out. Haaaaate.
- I don't remember if I blogged about this already, but what the hell, the rules don't say I have to list ten new things, so here goes: when I was like nine I had a crush (I guess you'd call it a crush) on a classmate, so a friend and I decided that I would send him anonymous love letters (oh, to get my hands on one of those now) and deliver them "for a friend" so I'd have an excuse to interact with this kid. It worked too, until he got really curious about who the letters were from and started asking too many damn questions. When that happened we had to send him to sleep with da fishies. Or maybe I just stopped writing to him, cold turkey. A part of me kind of secretly maybe wondered if that fucked with his head for a little bit, but via the Internets (Love you, Internets!) I've learned that he did manage to go on with his life, moving on to other serious relationships and gainful employment. Whew.
- The night before last, Juno was pawing at the door to Shane's closet (Maybe she was trying to make a little kitty panic room after the burglary scare?). Later that night, I had a dream that she was pawing at the door because she knew mice were in there, and we opened the door (Why? Why would you do that?) and all these mice came pouring out, and I thought one of them was crawling up the bed and heading for my mouth. So I started freaking out, only I was freaking out for real because I didn't realize I was dreaming. Shane had to shake me until I was fully awake... Don't you wish you lived with me?
- I keep telling myself I'm going to become fluent in French one day, but truthfully I know that I'm full of shit. I happen to be really good with foreign languages, but I think deep down inside I'm afraid I'm like Kelly Bundy, capable of retaining a limited amount of information at the same time.
- I think when I am old, I'll either cut my hair very very short (and hope I have the skull shape to pull it off), or rock some awesome salt-and-pepper dreadlocks. This high-maintenance shit is for the birds.
- On the other hand, I worry about getting old a lot, maybe more than someone my age without a history of serious (physical) illness should.
- Fanfiction is the reason I finally broke down and start reading the Harry Potter series. Not the reviews, not all the blogs raving about it. Now I'm faced with something of a conundrum, because they really are like potato chips (I'm on Book 3) and I'm eager to read more, but I've been spoiled on some of the more tragic stuff that happens later in the series. Gah.
I'm tagging: Jamelah, allthewine, srah, Zoot, Isabel, SA, and lengli. Leave me a comment if you decide to go for it!
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