The End of the Year as We Know it

Courtesy of Sundry...it's a blog post of random information! About meeeeeeeeee!

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?
Um. Get myself knocked up? Go to Boston?

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't actually recall any of the resolutions that I made last year so I cannot accurately answer this question...

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
SH at work had a beautiful baby girl just 3 weeks ago! She's adorable...both of them!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Uncle Howard. He was a very good man.

5. What countries did you visit?
No new countries. weep.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
Oh a second car would be great but I'll settle for all the baby crap we need to acquire in the next 6 months.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
October 18th. We were in Boston and according to my doc's calculations there was some activity in my wee uterus. Go figure.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Deciding that being a Mother can be a good thing.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Not doing a PhD...for now.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
More colds and viruses than I care to comment on. No major injuries...

11. What was the best thing you bought?
No contest. My iPod.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
No contest! The Husband's!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Wow. I could make a list. George W. Bush, Michael Vick, Britney Spears (will someone please stop her?!), Vladimir Putin, basically anyone stupid, cruel, pigheaded or irreparably selfish.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Hmmm, probably to eating out...Boston took a big chunk, and student loans. Sallie Mae hates me...but we're paying off early!!!

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
All the college football upsets. Harry Potter 7.

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?
Regina Spektor's Fidelity or Apres moi le deluge.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
I am a) happier but in a bittersweet kind of way and b) fatter...but PREGNANT! and c) richer in more ways than one.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Studying. My languages are leaving me quickly. And writing...I'm out of the critical habit.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Whining about my job. Stressing about things I can't control. Wasting time.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With the Husband and my family.

21. Did you fall in love in 2007?
Every day.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
I don't watch TV. I don't have TV. I have an innate distrust of TV.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope. I don't apply hate to people. Only ideas and situations.

24. What was the best book you read?
The History of Love, The Solace of Leaving Early, Les Miserables (uncut), Tolstoy Lied, and Our Mutual Friend.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Regina Spektor

26. What did you want and get?
A speaker system for my ipod.

27. What did you want and not get?
Gold earrings, garnets, a new car.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Hmmmm. Stardust. Harry Potter 5. I was unimpressed this year.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I was 31 and we went to dinner with my family. To a steak house! How ironic! They took the only vegetarian to a steak house! That's comedy!

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A better job. Or a PhD program.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Classic, comfortable, casual, granola.

32. What kept you sane?
Books and classical music. Always the Husband.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Probably Clive Owen...he's nice. Dominic Mafham...also very nice.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Hmmm...no one. I'm pretty cynical about politicians....I am unimpressed with the lot of them.

35. Who did you miss?
Whimsy. Sarah.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
The Heatons and the Jones.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007?
The the quality of a life isn't measured in the initials behind your name. That important people are not always paid what they're worth. That love is unconditional and forgiving and CRAZY.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I don't know. Is there a song that says something about how "you know how you thought your life was going in one direction? well now it's going in another! Enjoy the ride!"? Yeah. I need that song if any of you have heard it.

Destination: Ghost Town

So. It's the Friday before New Year's weekend and guess who's here at work?!

ME!

And guess who else?

Yep. Only 2 other people. They work in a different suite and they're lovely. It's eerily quiet here. I went down to the lavatory and it was still dark from the cleaning people having cleaned it and turned off the lights last night. The only sound is the occasional warm up by the printer. I've read my morning news, pop culture updates and blogs for the day...so now I'm left with this bizarre feeling of what to do?

All this spare time on my hands has left me contemplating new year's resolutions. I generally make them and forget them every year. It's tradition! This year I have a couple that I'm actually considering writing down because I actually want to keep them...

What about you all? Any resolutions you actually want to keep this year?

84 days

I hope you all had a merry Christmas, as we did. We spent Christmas eve together, opening presents and laughing heartily at one another. Christmas day was spent with my sister and her family, my parents and my 91 year old Grandmother. We opened more presents, we ate more candy than is good for anyone and laughed heartily at one another...some more. All in all it was a lovely day, if a bit exhausting. We came home last night and took down the tree and put the apartment right. As much as I love Christmas, this year it was a sort of milestone and one that we're both grateful to have past.

Last Saturday it was 12 weeks. 84 days. The pit has officially blossomed into a fetus. On this note, my sister has FORBIDDEN us from referring to The Child as the pit so from henceforth it will simply be The Child. It was fun, but she's right. It's not an inanimate object any more, it's a being that will eventually grow into our Child.

How insane is that?! We're going to have a CHILD?! And just to prove how crazy we cats are, here's proof. 12 week rainy day belly:

I know. You're all looking at my chest. It is impressive. Some days it feels like they need their own postal code. I just keep telling myself that my child will drink cream.

Today is my last day off this week. Tomorrow it's back to work, back to life, back to normal. We're cleaning out today in hopes that somehow in our tiny utopia there will be room enough for the Child and all the child's necessaries. It's a good thing they start out small.

I surrender.

I give up.

I have succumbed.

I am doing a Pride and Prejudice crossword puzzle at my desk and daring anyone to walk by and give me actual work to do.

I am biding my time until some merciful being comes and says, "Hey! Go home! Happy Holidays!"

As far as I am concerned, that being cannot come soon enough.

In the meantime, I have an embarrassingly familiar acquaintance with Pride and Prejudice.

The Motivation that Wasn't

So.

I'm at work.

I'm finding it difficult to be motivated to do work.

Instead I'd much rather read. Or surf the net. Or look at socks. Or eat bagels.

The problem is that I have stuff to be doing...small projects, but still work. I just don't want to do any of them.

Also I think I'm getting another cold. So really, work is bad for me.

Right?

Random Randomness

OK. So I was wracking my brain trying to come up with something clever to write about today but I opted for random but mildly entertaining...lists!

Stuff I've listened to lately:

• Boys of Lough
• Carpenter's Christmas
• Sense and Sensibility Soundtrack
• Regina Spektor
• NPR

Stuff I've read lately:

• Little Women
• Christmas Carol
• LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring
• Bleak House
• Blogs

Stuff I've eaten lately:

• macaroni and cheese without the nasty cheese
• pineapple
• celery with Cesar dressing
• carrots
• chocolate chip muffins made by my own two hands
• salt and vinegar chips
• soy hot dogs
• dill pickles
• toast with cinnamon and sugar
• sour dough bread with butter
• cheerios and milk
• navel oranges
• beans

Stuff I've bought recently:

• Christmas presents for the Husband
• a star for our Christmas tree
• Christmas cards
• maternity t-shirts
• mini-twixs
• cat food
• Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on DVD

People I've called recently:

• My grandma
• My sister
• My mom
• the Husband

Places I've fallen asleep recently:

• Bed sweet bed...of course
• the futon (which I think might need a name)
• the car
• the shower
• the floor
• my desk. oh dear.

Things I've thought recently:

• "CRAP! I forgot to take my vitamin Saturday and Sunday!"
• "Bluuurgh. HATE. Alarm. Clock. Shut. Up. Now."
• "Get off of me, cat."
• "I wonder what this poor child is going to inherit from me that I have no control over...genetically speaking."
  
• "Yay RAIN!"
• "The Husband is attempting to come between me and my giant bowl of pineapple. Please don't take my pineapple."
• "What should I read next? Modern? Old? Modern? Old? Poetry? Nope. Play? Um. Not so much. Short stories? Maybe."
  
• "What is wrong with me?"
• "Make your own da** tables for your own da** paper."
• "How can people EAT this?"
• "The Husband is going to give me a lump of coal because I am a BAD wife."
• "I wonder how many mini-twix bars 3 different stockings can hold? I wonder if the Husband would find that as funny as I do...raining mini-twix bars! Awesome."
• "Who are these people that buy Christmas presents for their pets?"

As you can see. The Wife is kind of all over the place. Theoretically, we will be back to our previously scheduled random cleverness in the next few weeks. Until then, please stay tuned.

Potluck Issues

I have issues. Potluck issues.

Here is my problem.

Aside from the Meat Issue--as in, everyone drowns every living thing in MEAT--people just eat strange food! They put FRUIT in SALAD. Fruit has no place in a salad! It's sweet! You can't mix sweet and savory! Then you never want to go back to the savory! It's bad nutritional practice! They drown everything in SAUCE. There is such a thing as too much sauce people...Salad shouldn't be Soupy! If you need a SPOON to eat solid food there might be a problem. Put down the bottle of sauce and step away from the serving dish. Nothing is ever as warm as it should be, you're given nothing but plastic utensils to cut through things with, and everything TOUCHES. Then there's the cattle drive. You know what I'm talking about, everyone in line waiting to walk the line of food and the people in front and behind you quietly (and disdainfully) surveying your plate and wondering why you're so picky that you're not eating EVERYTHING. It's too much. I cannot take it...I must FLEE.

Does anyone else see a problem here? It's seriously cruel and unusual punishment to continue to hold these kinds of events...but HOW do we get people to leave off and realize the total INSANITY of what they're suggesting as a holiday party?

I can understand a dessert potluck where everyone brings a sweet of some kind and shares and you eat tiny little portions and talk over the merits of one dessert or another...but that's it! I'm officially over the potluck edge...someone save me...send a rescue party...and also normal food.

Craptacular

I generally have a quiet job. I get phone calls...mostly perspective students wanting to know more about one of the programs we offer. I get the occasional bizarre number. It usually adds humor to the day. (Now that I think about it, this always happens on Wednesdays...what's with that?)

But seriously, people, if your job is to call and harass innocent people? Quit now and pursue a life of peace.

We had a graduate student here a while ago, who, it seems, rang up quiet the credit card bill. She has since gone back to TAIWAN. But because she listed this number as her "contact" number, her credit card collection company keeps calling ME. ME!!!

I have tried everything with these people. I tell them she doesn't work here any more. She doesn't live here, this is a place of business. She's no longer in the country. I can't very well transfer you to TAIWAN. I'm sorry and blah blah blah. I am polite and professional because I am PAID to be so. Today has seriously pushed me over the edge.

This HORRIBLE woman called me 3 TIMES this morning looking for this poor student. The second time I informed her as politely as possible that the student is no longer here, she graduated and we do not have any forwarding information for her. The woman informed me that she didn't like me "tone" that I was "unprofessional" and could she "speak to my supervisor." People. We work in CUBICALS. My supervisor heard every word! She's been telling me to hang up on these people for months! That I'm too nice to them, I need to stop talking to them blah blah blah.

So I transferred her over to my supervisor who proceeded to tell her that what I had said was not unprofessional but rather, true. The woman then asks to speak with my supervisor's supervisor and so on up the food chain. My boss asked her to stop calling and hung up on her! It was brilliant!

The woman immediately called me back. I saw the number pop up on caller ID and promptly left. Went to walk for a bit. Cool down so as not to pick up the phone and tell her this:

"You must be pretty proud of yourself! You get paid to be a WITCH. Nice life. So what do you tell your kids that you do all day? Harass innocent people who don't OWE you money? OH, wait, I'm assuming that someone would want to be near enough to you, you hateful, spiteful, cruel person, to PROCREATE with you, which now that I think about it, is doubtful at best. It's CHRISTMAS and I'm operating under no assumptions about your religious persuasion or tolerance here, but at LEAST be POLITE when you call STRANGERS. It costs you NOTHING and we are far more LIKELY to ASSIST you rather than HINDER you when you are NICE to us."

How's that for unprofessional?

Gross.

So, for those of you out there who threw up the whole time you were pregnant and who are secretly seething that I haven't been sick at all, I have good news!

No, not The Quease. The Snot. I've had 2 colds in 3 weeks. mmmm. Nastiness. And no cold meds allowed.

I sincerely hope the Pit appreciates this kindness...and doesn't grow an additional limb or anything just to mock me.

Pregnant Thoughts

I've been saving this post for the end of this Whimsy dedicated series because, well, it was the last one she listed, I think it's the least compelling of the topics, and also, the first doctor's appointment was yesterday (the first real doctor's appointment) so theoretically (HAR HAR HAR!) we know more. Also, I feel a bit guilty because I haven't been sick at all. Not a bit of it. Well, sick to my stomach...I could go on for ages about my allergies and the woe of my nose. And I know so many wonderful women who slog through months of misery and sickness for their babies. Apparently, it's not my fault, women in my family just don't get sick with pregnancy. Not to worry though, apparently we get wicked heartburn in the last trimester so for all you haters out there, I will get mine in the end.

Here's what we know. We're only having one baby (yay!), being a twin, this was a reasonable fear so the OB, we'll call her Dr. Wonderland, checked it out for me. We're definitely due July 7th (yay for me! 9 months pregnant in the South! in July! Clearly I am a master planner!). And I'm in pretty decent shape physically (yay!) but need to get back to working out daily once this whole first trimester evil exhaustion abates.

Here is what I realized while there:

THERE IS AN ACTUAL BABY IN THERE!

And also that this teeny little gummy bear sized baby has a heartbeat all it's own and it's just flickering around in there while I feed it a frillion mini Twix bars. And also Rolos. And also mini York Peppermint Patties. And Candy Canes. And Navel Oranges. (I love Christmas!)

This whole thing has been a bit abstract for me...I feel pretty normal. But yesterday...was a reality check. At the end of this wonderful mixed up state of anxiety and confidence I will get this tiny little baby who will look at me and rely on me to feed it and clean it and protect it. And frankly, I feel like the little engine that could, IthinkIcanIthinkIcanIthinkIcan, but a time will come when the little baby will grow up and I won't be able to protect it anymore and how can I be expected not to fall into pieces at the pain of watching this teeny tiny heartbeat go out into the world to banged up and bruised and maybe even broken and put back together again by other hands than my own?

So. These are my thoughts on pregnancy. All mixed up and chaotic and random. Also, I really really love navel oranges right now.

Used

So, Whimsy asked me to tell you something truly weird about myself...and I've racked my brain and this is what I have come up with.

I CAN NOT wear used clothing. CAN NOT.

And here is why. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT HAS BEEN.

I donate clothes to the Goodwill, Salvation Army, what have you, but I cannot even go into one of their stores.

heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies

The Husband has a 3-piece baby-blue plaid suit circa 1970 that he bought in a Goodwill and just seeing it hanging in the closet gives me the heebie-jeebies.

I can't stop thinking about the people who might have worn the clothes. And what if they didn't wear underwear? What if they didn't bath? What if they were sweaty nasty crack whores? What if they were in a gang fight while wearing _________ ?

The Husband has tried to talk me down with the whole "They wash everything that they receive at the donation sites before they put it out to be sold!" argument. But I don't CARE. The fact remains that at some point someone nasty could have worn those pants and I CANNOT WEAR THEM.

heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies

I've been thinking about this recently because, dude, we are with child and children's clothes--they are expensive. And I could potentially save a great deal of money by buying children's clothes used. I just don't know if I can swing it mentally. I mean...the child thing is weird enough, but someone else's kid, someone else's poop etc. But then potentially we're thinking about someone else's house and the things that go on there...what if they weren't clean? What if they just let the kids LAY in the poop? What if they were like Britney Spears? There are people who do this sort of thing!

heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies heebie-jeebies

The problem is, I don't know which side of my brain is stronger, the side that is grossed out by used clothes or the side that is CHEAP. Stay tuned for this ongoing drama.

First Pet

My parents are more cat people than dog people. My mom grew up on a farm where they always had cats in the barn as mousers, but my dad? Well, his dad was a dog person, and by dog person, I mean the man loved his dogs more than he loved his children, or his grand-children for that matter.

As a kid I distinctly remember my grandfather's dogs, he had two Great Danes named Shiva and Duba and one of them (I can never remember which one) tore into a second cousin's face and after that my father forbid me and my brother to be on the floor when the dogs were in the house. When we stayed there we had to sleep on the dog's bed (maybe not the best plan) which was elevated like a captain's sea bed and if my grandfather accidentally let the dogs in while we were there we had to sprint and jump up on the bed to be "out of reach" of the dogs. I have no idea how BEING ON THEIR BED made us out of their reach, but I was a kid and I did what I was told.

Anyway, my dad grew up around dogs but never had a strong desire to have one. Put simply, my parents had kids to take care of, they didn't want pets in the house, it was enough to take care of the kids. But then my sisters wanted a cat so my dad brought home one cat and then another when that cat ran off or we moved and it disappeared, anyway it was all before my time.

This is not a picture of my cat, but you can sort of get the gist of why black cats are so great.

One spring day when I was five years old, my dad brought home a kitten that was to be my cat. Maybe I had been begging for a cat for some time, I honestly don't remember, maybe my sister had negotiated this development on my behalf, I don't know. All I know is that one day my dad came into our tiny house and looked down at me and said, "Your cat just threw up in the car, go clean it up." Which I did, and while there I became acquainted with this tiny little black kitten with bright yellow eyes. Whoever says that black cats are bad luck has never had one. They are wonderful!

She lived in my closet and under my bed. For those of you who are not "cat people" let me tell you that cats are every bit as social as a dog, they just tend to limit that sociability to one person. I was my cat's person. She loved me and just me, she attacked every single member of my family at various times in her life.

I did not have a gift for naming pets as a young child so I called her Kitty because that's what she responded to. When asked, I still insist she named herself.

She wasn't spayed when we got her so by the time she reached adulthood she was pregnant. I just thought she was getting fat. One day she started howling and following me around everywhere I went and it kind of spooked me (I was 6, please, cut me some slack!) so I put her in the closet and just left her there. I told my mom about it and my mom freaked out. She built her a little nest out of a cardboard box and some old towels and then put that in the closet and seemed to calm down. I honestly had no clue what was going on. I was probably out riding my bike or climbing a tree or some such nonsense. All I know is that when I got home that night there were KITTENS in my CLOSET! And they were the cutest kittens the world has ever known!

I would like to go on the record as saying if there are people out there with hearts so hard that they can resist a wee kitten, I do not wish to know them. Kittens and puppies both are magical magical creatures.

Kitty had 3 kittens whom I promptly named (badly) Claudia, Barbie and Spike. Naturally, being a sucker for hard luck cases at an early age, I wanted to keep them all--in my closet-- FOREVER. My parents, being realistic and also prudent people said, "Not so much small fry." And once the kittens were weaned, Kitty was spayed and the kittens disappeared. I don't know if they were given away (I suspect at least Claudia (a wee white and grey striped kitten with blue eyes that could melt the heart of Ebeneezer Scrooge himself) was given away) or if they were left with the Humane Society for adoption. I still suspect that my older sister paid to have Kitty spayed by a local vet.

Life continued uneventful after that. We moved across the country and she moved with me. We tried leaving her with friends when we went on extended trips to visit family members but she always ran away and managed to find her way back to our house. She continued to be fed, watered and cared for by me. She continued to sleep in my bed.

At the ripe old age of 12 she vanished. I don't know what happened to her. I suspect that she knew she was wearing out and she went off to find somewhere to lay her bones. I suppose it's sentimental and foolish of me to admit that I cried sorely when she wouldn't come home. It was my first real experience with loss. With loving someone or something that is independent of you and that you can't control...and losing them to time, to circumstances, to...whatever you want to call it. She was a great cat.

A Funny Childhood Recolection

OK. Per Whimsy's request again. And this isn't really one of my recollections, it's my parents' memory and a story they love to tell about their liberal-minded, pseudo-hippy, passivist daughter.

I was about 4 and playing in the yard of a neighbor kid. It was me, Jody and another neighbor kid of about the same age. Now this neighbor kid and Jody used to play together all the time but I was new on the scene. Well, at some point he starts pulling her hair and bullying her and then he turned on me and I hauled off and punched him in the face. At which point Neighbor Kid goes crying into the house to Jody's mom saying, "The Little Orange Girl hits back!"

So there you go. Be ware before you cross me, for the Little Orange Girl hits back!

A Funny Adolescent Recolection

My father loves to sled. As in snow sledding. We had ice-sleds growing up--for those of you raised on the pitiful plastic disks, ice sleds have metal "blades" on the bottom which you wax so that you can go even faster!

Now, Washington doesn't get a lot of snow, but they do occasionally get a good heaping dose! And one particular year, in my troubled teens, we got a good dose, followed by sheets of ice. Everything was shut down, even the shipyard so my dad couldn't go to work. What was to be done? Sledding of course.

So we headed out, one bright morning, to this nearby street that had a massive hill that then turned right and went down another massive hill that then ended in a T intersection--turn left, go down hill again, turn right, go up hill, go straight and you're in trees, shrubs and blackberry briars.

Now, you should know that, my dad, he doesn't have the best track record with sledding and his kids. We have ALL been thrown, hurt or wounded sledding with this man. And yet, we continue to go. Why? Our judgment was probably damaged in the accidents, that or our sense of speed and competition out weighs our good sense every single time. So we go! Happily! To our snow cold dooms!

My dad, my brother and myself tramp off to this icy, steep and treacherous hill for "fun" and "good times." My dad lays down flat on the long sled and tells me to lay on his back--which I do. My brother takes the smaller sled and down we go. Wind whipping our hair and faces until tears stream down our cheeks. At the bottom of the first hill we bail off the sleds and into the snow drifts. And tramp back up the hill. After a couple of runs like this my father says, "Ok. Now why don't you kids race?"

Please know. As a child I was the single most competitive girl in the WORLD. Especially where my twin was concerned. There was no way I was going to let my ogre of a brother WIN. So after some trash talking, I get ready and we sprint and then jump down on to the sleds going at breakneck speeds down this hill. I am behind him by 3 maybe 4 inches and I know I can catch him, so I hunker even closer to the sled and see myself creeping up on him but the road is rapidly approaching that T intersection, so I being to turn to the right thinking: I can cut him off and force him to yield (I have always been an aggressive driver) and I can also slow down so that I don't have to bail off into the snow! It was brilliant!

And it really was brilliant until I hit a patch of bare pavement. You know that law of physics, the one that says, "An object in uniform motion tends to stay in uniform motion unless acted upon by a net external force"? Yeah. That one is TRUE. Want to know how I know? Metal ice sled coming into contact with pavement? Yeah. The pavement stops is cold. And I, retaining all the original force of the previous movement did not stop cold. No, no, I continued to move. In the air. ACROSS THE STREET! I flew in the air across the street until I hit a tree with my back and then rolled down 6 feet of blackberry briars.

I still have the scars to prove it.

And my brother? My dear sweet twin? He stood at the top of the hill and laughed at me. LAUGHED!!! Until he had tears in his eyes. And yes, I'm sure he did it with love too.

Needless to say, I scrambled out. Grabbed the sled. Began the long march up the hill where my dad took one look at my face and said, "Don't tell your Mother."

Can we take a moment to appreciate my dad's lack of logic at this point? My face is scratched and bleeding! My face! Where my mouth is! In the front! Presumably my mom is going to notice at some point that I am injured. But my dad, worried now about getting me and himself in trouble with mom, lovingly smears snow in my face to slow down the bleeding and sends me home. I trudge home, pride more wounded than my face (which was pretty wounded) and walk in to the house through the garage. I walked straight in to my MOM--because I am a tattle tale that's why! And my father had scarred me for life and I would never get a date and it was all his fault and yes, at 14 I was quite dramatic.

So I walked in the house and promptly burst in to tears at which point my mom started yelling, "WHATHAPPENEDTOYOURFACE???" It was about a week before Christmas, so holiday pictures would permanently mark that I too had been scarred by my father's love of sledding.

In my brother's defense it must have looked quit comical the whole flying through the air, tumbling through blackberry briars and then the scratched and bloodied sister. The story has since passed into family tradition, we all gather round and lovingly tell how Dad tried to off every one of us via sledding!

7...it's not the magic number

Ok. So Whimsy asked me to do this...and I did try when she first did her version of the 7 Weird or Random things about her...but everything I wrote just seemed so normal and boring and Whimsy is so cool that I couldn't possibly compete so I chickened out. Here I am again...trying to come up with 7 truly Weird or Random things about me...here I go:

1. (GAH! It's already starting! I'm blanking again! Somebody call the Husband! He's the expert on my weirdness not me!) I am a creature of habit. Everyone says that but I really am. I do the exact same things in the exact same order every morning and every night. I get up. I feed the cats. I pour a glass of something fizzy (I like carbonation in the morning, I don't know why). I take my allergy meds (and yes, my Doctor gave me the all clear to take them while knocked up). I clean out the cat box (and yes, my Doctor gave me the all clear to resume this lovely activity while knocked up). I get in the shower. I wake up the Husband. I get dressed including shoes. I do skin care. When the Husband gets in the shower, I do my hair. I put on make up. I pack up stuff to take to work. I eat breakfast (read during breakfast). I put on coat. I walk out the door. Every morning. Exact order. If the Husband is late getting in the shower I have to poke around until he does because I can't do my hair until he's in the shower. In the evening it's the same shtick.

2. I have multiple copies of the same book. Whimsy! This is humiliating! I have my reasons though! Some are different editions. For example. I have 4 copies of all of Jane Austen's novels. Why? I have the Oxford edition because it's the one you have to cite from if you want to publish and I was published so there! I have the Norton critical editions because it gives a good smattering of the popular criticism about that given novel. I have a 6 in 1 edition which I bought to travel for when I can't decide what book to take (and I can always decide so really this edition is just taking up space...) and I have the mass market paperbacks for when I'm sick and stuck in bed and don't want to be hefting a big ol' book. SEE! It makes sense! Sort of. Some of the multiple editions are different translations...which also makes sense...but maybe only to me.

3. I hate having my picture taken. I know. Many people will also say this about themselves, but by HATE I mean HATEWITHTHEFIREOFATHOUSANDSUNS. HATE like native islanders who think the camera will steal their souls. As in, when I was a teenager I destroyed most of my childhood pictures because I hated seeing myself on a piece of paper. It gives me the heeby-jeebies. I tend to duck out of most pictures and if I can't then I tend to destroy the evidence afterwards.

4. I have red, naturally curly hair. You can't tell me this isn't weird or random because I have to do something with it. Every day.

5. I love a list. I have been known to put things that I've already done on a To Do list just so that I can have the pleasure of scratching them off. I love it. I know. Somebody call the psych ward.

6. I hate clutter. Including work sitting on my desk. Everything has to be put away or I can't concentrate. Our apartment is positively institutional. There are NO knick-knacky crap things lying around--I can't stand them! Not even pictures...they have to be hung up on the wall or not at all. And we don't have house plants because I can't seem to keep them alive.

7. I hate things tight around my throat. No turtlenecks, chokers, bands, anything. I can't stand it. Same with wrists or fingers...if my rings are too tight, they come off...I can't wear a watch because it's too constricting and my watch is loose.

There. I did it! And I successfully avoided all food related weirdness. I could probably do a whole series of memes about food related oddities but it hits a bit too close to home and at some point my family may read this and I don't want them disgruntled for bringing up private things in a public sphere. Man that was hard. Next up, I want Tessie to do this one, and also Sarah B. and Chantelle!