Here are the rules:
Firstly, post these rules and a link to the person who tagged you.
Secondly, share seven facts about yourself, all devastatingly interesting.
Lastly, tag seven people at the end of your post, linking their names to their blogs. Follow this up by advising said parties of the tag in the comment section on their blog(s).
Seven things about me:
I carved a pumpkin tonight. Originally I had planned on carving a face on the moon, based on a stencil I purloined from here, but my knife was not meant to cut curves. So I ended up doing the classic three triangles and a jagged grin. It's a classic for a reason.
My first word was cookie. Oddly enough, I wasn't using it to ask for a baked treat, but rather to identify a Muppet. My dad was reading a paper, and I pointed at a picture of the Cookie Monster in an ad for Sesame Street on Ice or something, and started saying, "Cookie, cookie!"
When I was in AmeriCorps, I began believing that my days could be predicted by how many alligators I saw when I went for a walk. No alligators meant a bad day, with the day improving for every one I spotted. The best I ever did was four.
At various times in college, I wanted to study psychology, art history, and film. All my interests are clearly (and militantly) non-lucrative.
Both my parents have glaucoma. It seems likely that I will, too.
I prefer covers of the songs of The Beatles and Bob Dylan to the originals. In the case of the former, this is because of overexposure to the originals; in the latter case, I just loathe his voice.
I had a stuffed bear named Singo, so called because he had a windup music box in his butt. Unfortunately, one day I ran into Lake Michigan with him, while I was wearing no pants. There are photos somewhere in the family archive. Singo never sang again, but I still have him.
I TAG NO ONE! HA HA HA!
2 comments:
I love the fact that you still have Singo, even though he can't sing. It says so much about you, really.
You've had me in tears here.
Aw, thank you! I actually singed Singo -- oddly appropriate -- during my turbulent teen years, when lighting rubber cement on fire is supremely fascinating. I also, oddly, had him in drag for a while. Eventually, he recovered his dignity, and I sewed angel wings on him. He's now sort of my guardian angel -- or possibly a mutant -- and takes a place of prominence on my door every X-mas. I know that just deflated any emotional resonance he might have had on you, but that bear's been through a lot!
Post a Comment