Maxine Dangerous has tagged me with a meme! Oh, noez! Here’s the plot:
1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
3. Tag seven random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
Hmmm. Given that I talk about myself endlessly, I can’t think of seven things I haven’t already disclosed. So, lets ask the little woman. Hey, honey, what are seven weird things about me? She’s got nuthin’. Damn, I have to do this all myself.
- I have a weird obsession with buttons, dating back to my childhood, when I would play with the pearl-like buttons on the pillow cases my grandmother made while I tried to fall asleep. I now have a giant jar of buttons that I bought at a flea market and plan to do something with. Every now and then I open the jar and play with the buttons. (hey, you asked for weird. We’re in Proust/madeleines territory here.)
One of the highlights of my day is watching my dog poop – he balances on his front feet, and his back feet come up off the ground. It’s hysterical. (I think technically this may be a weird thing about my dog more so than me.)
For the past ten years or so, my underwear are boxer shorts. They’re just more comfortable. And I have some gender identity things I don’t talk about much.
I love tapioca, cottage cheese and lumpy mashed potatoes because of the lumpy texture. I can’t stand tomatoes, grapes, or peaches, because biting them makes me think I’m biting human flesh.
The other day, I had the Metal Typer Souvenir Coin site make me a good luck coin that says “you are the master of your fate” because the irony was just too much not to.
I’m very particular about how the icons are arranged on my desktop, and I constantly realign them so they’re straight in line with one another, and arranged alphabetically by category.
I’m also very picky about how my sheets are arranged at night, and if the sheet hangs down further than the comforter, I’ll lay awake at night worrying about it.