5 Things
2006-01-24, 2:35 p.m.

I�ve been tagged by biodtl to share 5 random things about me. Mine won�t be nearly as interesting, because I don�t have any mad mad MacGyverish skillz, but here goes anyway:

1. I sleep curled up on my side with my ears covered. It is very, very important to have the sheet pulled up over my ears. If I can�t see it or hear it, then it can�t find me and eat me. You would think with the boogeyman and/or clowns (is there a difference?) lurking in the shadows that I would have to sleep with a night light...on the contrary, it has to be pitch black and cold. I have my warm, safe, silent little nest in the midst of the Cave of Evil Clowns.

2. I have managed to squash a lot of my OCD tendencies (such as having to count or otherwise note all the yellow dashes in the road while driving), but not all. Some I can deal with subtly. But be warned, if you have a crooked picture, a rumpled towel on the bar, or disheveled magazines on your coffee table, I WILL straighten them to save the universe from imploding. And if you find me having a panic attack, it means someone hung a shirt on a hanger, not facing to the left, with the shoulder seams off-kilter. Call an ambulance.

3. I respect and value life...but mess with a child, and my value for your life reaches an impasse. For instance, there is a lady here whose case is on appeal. A male relative openly admitted to raping her young daughter, as well as another child. When she found out and confronted him immediately in the parking lot at his workplace, he laughed in her face and asked her what she was going to do about it. She then shot him a few squazillion times...or at least enough that she had to reload. Of course she was arrested and put on trial. Trial? Hell no, give her a medal. As a reward, give her all the money it would have cost us taxpayers to feed and house his lousy behind, just so he could get out of jail early and ruin another child�s life. Put a statue of her in the middle of town. When it comes to our babies, vengeance is mine, saith the mother.

Would I have done the same thing in her instance, if I found out someone had raped my little girl? Almost. She had a revolver. I have a shotgun.

4. I�ve had a crush on Nathan Lane since the early 80's when he was in One Of The Boys. He�s just so danged squeezable. Just one bear hug and my life will be complete. I hear you, �But he�s gay, isn�t he?� And your point is...? Squeezable, people, squeeeeeeeeeze. In general, I�ve tended to like guys with brown hair and a little meat on their bones. The whole overrated six-pack-abs crapola? No thanks. I have no desire to snuggle a concrete block. And yes, Hubby falls under the brown-haired-and-muscular-yet-cuddly category. Hands off, he�s mine. MINE.

5. If I�m nervous, or thinking really hard about something, I hum. Hubby can tell the difference by how badly I�m humming. That�s pretty harsh, when you suck at humming. So much for my dreams of being a rock star/Broadway goddess.

Golfwidow posed 5 things on the Smellometer...5 smells that bring back good memories, and 5 that dredge up things not-so-good:

Smells Me Likey

1. That Playdough-and-Industrial-Sanitizer scent shared by 99.9% of preschools and church nurseries. I loved preschool, oh how I loved it. I could paint the most beautiful pictures and stick all the butter cookies with the holes in the middle on my fingers and nibble around the scalloped edges. It was like eating sugary flower rings, which was the coolest thing, ever, the kind of thing only princesses can do.

2. The slightly-musty-old-house smell. Reminds me of my aunt and uncle�s house, built in the mid-50's. I loved it there. Happy times.

3. Avon�s Apple Blossom perfume. I thought that was the most heavenly fragrance, and the little pink bottle was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I was seven years old, gimme a break. Avon no longer does the nifty perfume bottles, which majorly sucks, and is a prime reason I hardly ever buy from them anymore. Note to Avon: Bring back the cool bottles. Stop the suck.

4. Bacon. If you don�t like the scent of bacon frying, it is only because you are dead or otherwise olfactory-impaired. Someone could serve you turd on a platter and as long as bacon is wafting in the air, it will be delicious. Not that I intend to try that theory, but feel free to do so yourself.

5. Baby powder and it�s cousin, Love�s Baby Soft. Combines two great things: the scent of a freshly-scrubbed baby; and memories of being 13 years old and reading Seventeen magazine with Phoebe Cates on the cover and feeling very mature about reading �Seventeen� at thirteen.

Smells Me Hatey:

1. New houses. The formaldehyde or whatever in the building materials makes the air thick as jam and I. Can�t. Breathe. It also brings back the stress of building a house, the stress of adding on a bedroom, the stress of repairs, the stress of sprucing a place up to sell...not exactly a flood of relaxation.

2. Raspberries. Horrid, acrid, instant headache. Nasty little buggers. They look like hemorrhoids. Nothing good can come of them.

3. Clairol Herbal Essence, Liz Claiborne perfume, and their ilk. More sharp, biting, nasal-membrane-slicing, headache-inducing terror. The woman in the shower in the commercial isn�t getting it on, that�s the death wail of the banshee. Enjoy-that-shower-now-my-pretty,-I�m-coming-to-strangle-you-with-my-noxious-fumes-of-dooooooooooom. ::::::::cue the flying monkeys:::::::::

4. Pencil sharpener shavings (something Golf and I appear to have in common). Reminds me of being called down in 4th grade for having the audacity to sharpen my pencil, whisper at someone to give back my paper they just stole, or generally for showing up, all of which seemed to ruin my teacher�s life, to which she reacted accordingly.

5. Freshly mown grass. Like new houses, falls under that Help-Me-I�m-Suffocating category. I�ve heard many people love this smell, but I have a hard time enjoying it when I�m in the throes of respiratory failure.

If you�re on my buddy list, the torch is passed to you. Next?

last - next