During the trials and tribulations of my wisdom tooth, I was tagged by Here Today, Gone Tomorrow. I'm just now getting around to finally responding to the gaunlet that was thrown down... here are 7 true things about myself; I shit you not about any of this, it’s too bizarre to make up.
1. I never saw snow until I was 21. I was fourth generation Floridian, and I have family members who feel about snow the way some feminists feel about men… Floridians need snow like a fish needs a bike. They have no want or need to see snow. I was curious about it, but when I saw it for the first time, it was almost thanksgiving the first year I had moved up here, and I went buck nutty. Running around the parking lot, catching it on my tongue, etc… I imagine passersby’s thought I had escaped from my group home.
2. At the ripe old age of 21, I was almost a step mom to a then-four year old. To make a very long story short, I was moved up here by a lawyer man 15 years older than me. Because I was 16 years older than his kid, I was more like a big sister than a step mom. It was an odd dynamic. The kid and I had much in common; we liked the same kind of candy, video games, cartoons and poptarts. I taught the kid some cool stuff, for example he would say in his little kid voice “you gotta keep your pimpin’ hand strong!” and then you would ask him why, and he would respond: “because pimpin’ aint easy!” Isn’t THAT just the truth? His mom loved that little nugget of golden wisdom I passed on to him.
3. I like to get drunk and watch Antiques Roadshow. I bet on how old the items people bring in are and how much they are worth. If I am wrong I take a shot. If I am correct, I take two shots. By the time the show ends, I am screaming at the television, calling the people who bring in Grandma’s favorite painting “dumb whores” and ‘outbidding’ the experts who say they know what an item would sell for.
4. I once assisted the placing of a dead squirrel in an old lady’s mailbox. I was 15, and it was New Year’s Eve 2000. We had a metric ass ton of illegal fireworks, and accidentally set my friend’s neighbor’s palm tree on fire with a roman candle. She called the cops, they took away our fireworks. A few days later, we were in the same neighborhood, and we saw a dead squirrel on the road, and Crazy Fat Nicole, who was the cousin of my best friend’s boyfriend, had the bright idea to put it in the old lady’s mailbox. She was about to pick it up, and I’m like “NO, that’s gross. Here, use this plastic bag to handle it…” We positioned it so its little squirrely head and paws looked like they were ready to jump out at whoever opened the mailbox. I only wish I had been there when she opened the mailbox.
5. I absolutely HATE onions. They are not only slimy, but they smell awful. They remind me of filthy, sweaty hobos. Up here, there isn’t a year-round hobo population like in Fla. My first winter up here, I noticed there wasn’t very many hobos around, and I figured out they migrated to warmer climates (like Florida) like geese. Soooo, growing up I was exposed more often than I would’ve liked to hobos, and make the smell connection.
6. I once played strip cribbage. Native Floridians don’t take hurricanes under a class three seriously, so we had hurricane parties. One particular hurricane we were in my friend’s high rise apartment building, drinking it up, which was good times until the windows started blowing in. So we went down to the underground parking/basement area, and the only thing we could find to amuse ourselves was cribbage. Being drunken whippersnappers, why NOT make it strip cribbage?
7. I can play the shit out of the piano. I’ve been playing since I was 8, and can play pretty much anything if I have the sheet music. As a hobby, it’s more relaxing that throwing water balloons at prostitutes.
Unfortuntely, many of the bloggers in our blogosphere have already been tagged, so my selection is limited. Moooog, MatchChatter, Old Fish and Lemonade, Hot4Angryman (that should be interesting), The Fonz, Ted Velvet, and finally Jon.