Gay from gaysknits has “tagged” me. I’ve been reading her blog for a little while now and consider her to be one of the more interesting people I’ve never met. Something tells me she’d be fun to hang out with.
THE RULES:
Each player of this game starts with “6 weird things about you.” People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says “you are tagged” in their comments and tell them to read your blog.
I think this is good since my brain has basically been a void for awhile now, it will give me something to write about for a change.
The problem then is in the tagging of others. I don’t actually know six other bloggers who I could tag in return. Hmmm. I’ll have to cheat and tag only two. Who are the oh so lucky recipients of my tagging you ask… Joelle and Pat. (don’t feel obligated to do this)
So now how to choose the 6 weird things without you thinking I’m too weird:
- I love my dogs more than anything in the whole world, it’s obscene. I swear if someone told me that I had to hack off my own hand with a butter knife to save my Pig’s life, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
- I have historically had a monstrous problem with stage fright. In college I had a good portion of my tuition paid for with grants to play oboe and English horn in the orchestra. First off, the choice of oboe for someone with stage fright is beyond stupid, I think the oboe has a solo approximately every 3 minutes in your average classical piece. I shook so much in a concert once that I slit my lip open with the reed. It got so bad that at the end of my second year, when everyone with grants were required to go out on stage alone and play a little ditty in front of all the professors and miscellaneous students in order to keep the grant and get your final grade, I flatly refused to set foot on stage. My oboe professor was in the wings with me trying to beg, coax and finally threaten to give me a “D” if I did not go out and play something. I just stopped shaking, looked him in the eye and said “a D it is then.” I took my oboe apart and calmly left the building, happy to trade my mini stroke for a D.All the professors in the music department were well aware of my problem throughout my entire stay at that university and actually had a lot of empathy for me. They must have gotten together and decided to cut me a break because later that summer I received a letter from the conductor telling me that my “D” had been changed to a “B+.”
- Touching newspaper gives me the creeps. I do occasionally have to deal with it, like when I make a fire, but in general I try to avoid it at all cost.
- Speaking of news, I try to avoid that at all cost too. It is usually so upsetting and depressing that I see no need to put myself through it. I have enough to deal with in my own life, I don’t need to get all pissed off about a bunch of crap that I can’t do anything about anyway.
- I think body hair is grotesque. Sure you have to keep a bit so you don’t look like a 10 year old girl or some whore that sloshes around a Jell-O pit for a living, but other than that, yuk. If there’s a scene in a movie or TV show where a woman is running her fingers through some guy’s chest hair, I could almost gag.
(my apologies to any men or whores I’ve just insulted) - I am someone who is familiar with negative feelings like sadness or depression, I suppose you could say I am comfortable with them. On the flip side, when I am overly happy or excited about something, I guess I don’t know how to interpret these foreign feelings and at times they actually make me feel very sick or nauseous.
So there you have it, six weird things.
