Friday, July 06, 2007

Eight Random Facts About Me

I've been tagged by the scrumptious Ms. Jordan Rosenfeld.

The rules:
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Fine. Here are my eight random facts.

A Word of Warning:
I am so fascinating, you may be lulled into a hypnotic trance, whereupon I will control you with my extraordinary psychic powers via remote mindfuck, and you will be my intellectually-controlled slave forever and ever and ever.

Which is just fancy talk meaning I will take over your brain and you will unwittingly buy me lots of books and send them to me on a weekly (or daily, depending on how grabby I feel) basis. Also chocolate.

Eight Random Facts About Ms. Lori


1) My middle daughter, my oldest brother and I all have Asperger’s Syndrome, although only my daughter and myself have been diagnosed, e.g., spent two trillion bucks to sit in a shrink‘s chair and stare numbly at their flapping lips.

My brother, forty years old, loves lizards and spiders, still lives at home with Joan Crawford Mom, and will ask you how much you spent on a gift you give him. He’s also the smartest, funniest, kindest man I’ve ever known, and one of the few people on earth who doesn’t get on my last freaking nerve.

2) I adapt well to living on the streets, as evidenced by my stints in Manhattan and York, England. Park benches, cozy courtyards, and abandoned storefronts can be lovely if you have no sense of fear and at least two dollars in your pocket.

3) If someone is in trouble, especially women or children, I will attempt to help. I do not understand people who stand around and do nothing.

In my next life, I shall be either a first-responder of some sort or an exotic dancer.

4) I taste words, a phenomenon known as lexical-gustatory synesthesia. My name, for instance, tastes like the gel-like icing they put on birthday cakes. The name “Boris” evokes bad breath smell, and makes me a bit nauseated. Seriously, I can taste it in the back of my throat. It is not pleasant.

5) I have smoked cigarettes since age twelve.

6) My handwriting/printing is like that of a four-year-old, unless I take my time and try really, really hard. It’s difficult for me to hold pens or pencils, and I often become “stuck” while writing something, almost like being trapped for a moment in quicksand. I also transpose letters, have to stop and think before writing a word. Which sucks.

7) I am afraid of wild ferns. Quick, embarrassing anecdote: During a Girl Scout camping trip when I was eleven or so (I lasted two weeks in the Scouts, by the way), the girls and I went exploring in the woods. Fine and dandy. Unfortunately, we came upon a huge patch of fern, and in order to get to the babbling brook ahead, we had to cross through the ferns. I stood there shaking as all the other girls carelessly trod on through the dark, fluffy, disgusting, monster-hiding hell. And then I cried.

I was forced to return to the campsite and sit there with Ms. Wackadoo, one of the chaperons. She was very old and very insane. I learned more than I needed about how to whittle Ivory soap into hideous duck-shaped figurines.

8) I am not ashamed to admit that I love Tom Jones.

I am tagging the following people. Ignore if you must, darlings, but I always play by the rules…

Gerry

Kirby

Olivia

Cassandra

John

Mr. Biscuits

Josh

Victor

10 Comments:

At 11:03 AM, Blogger kirby said...

Scroll down to my June 28 post to see my 8 fantabulous facts.

 
At 11:06 AM, Blogger Jordan E. Rosenfeld said...

This only just proves how fantabulous I knew you were already! Awesome. You are like this cool thing my grandmother had. It was an old mail-slot organizer from ye oldest postal office on earth. It must have had 100 or more slots. And in each slot was something mysterious--some little carved totem or piece of jewelry or statuette that she had found somewhere. You are like this. A hidden trove of mysterious goodness.

 
At 12:55 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Kirby, my god, woman, we have MUCH in common...

Well, except for the mother-in-law/estranged dad/yucky picture with famous musician thing.

Jordan, that is about the most awesomely awesome thing anyone's ever said to me. ***beams***

 
At 12:58 PM, Blogger Michele said...

Hey, what's new pussycat?

Oh, I loved these fact. Of course I already knew about your love for Tom Jones, it is a memory I hold dear from our weekend in Vegas.

What does the word Vegas taste like to you? Well, besides him....

 
At 3:36 PM, Blogger Carol said...

Whittling Ivory soap is a lost art....

 
At 5:07 PM, Blogger Jeanne said...

Oh my gosh. Number seven. But I'm OK with ferns and fluffy frilly things. For me, it's anything with big wide veiny flappy leaves, like jungle things—Bird of Paradise, burdock, catalpa trees, rhubarb, philodendrons, and the worst of all: Elephant Ear plants. *shudder* I'd post links to photos, but I can't even look at them in a seed catalog, they freak me out so badly. Anyone who is curious will have to Google it themselves.

So guess what this Midwestern city decided to plant in the street containers this year? That's right—my nemesis, the Ear! I can hardly drive through town anymore, never mind walking downtown.

You are the FIRST PERSON in 44 years that I've ever heard had any sort of foliage phobia!

 
At 5:08 PM, Blogger Jeanne said...

And, no, I do not watch "Lost". Ever.

 
At 10:56 PM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Michele! Ohmygod! So good to see you!

Vegas, BTW, tastes like chicken gravy mixed with some kind of seed -- pumpkin, maybe? I dunno. But it's definitely chicken gravyish and seedy.

Oh, and it's WAYNE NEWTON you're thinking of, dear. WAYNEFUCKINGNEWTON! You beat his ass in arm wrestling! How could you forget?!

Carol, have you lost your mind? ;-)

Jeanne, I loathe large, veiny plants as well, but they do not put fear in my soul like the fern does.

Hey, let's face our fears and go on a horrible expedition somewhere in deepest Africa!

NOT.

 
At 3:10 PM, Blogger Michele said...

My dearest ms. lori....I thought we agreed to never speak his name again? You know how emotional I get and how my right arm still tingles from the mere memory of that "win."

Oh, and I have missed you. I will be back to visit soon...yes, you have been warned.

 
At 3:05 AM, Blogger Granny said...

I'm with you on the handwriting although my printing is adequate. I don't remember it but I think I started out life as a southpaw and was switched.

 

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