… tag me twice, and I start feeling guilty and actually succumb.
Of course, I’m incredibly late to the party. But now that you know six weird or interesting or bizarre or furry (okay; maybe not furry, but I was running out of adjectives) things about every other blogger out there, it’s time for me to step up. Wacky Mommy tagged me and then Holly tagged me and now I just wish I was more interesting.
*shuffling feet, clearing throat*
Okay. Presenting, six things you didn’t know about me and probably didn’t need or want to know but I am now telling you so act interested or at least just smile and nod!
1) As a young child–probably younger than my kids are now–I had an unidentified mass of… ummm… growths on top of one of my feet. My parents took me to a series of doctors’ appointments and I’m not sure that it was ever even diagnosed as anything other than “lumpy foot.” It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t discolored; it was just raised and ridged and weird. Eventually some doctor gave us special tape to put on it every night. I remember thinking it was an awful lot of hoopla over nothing. So my foot was lumpy! Big deal! (My foot is no longer lumpy. I don’t remember when it resolved, but my shoes are all quite grateful.)
2) I pull clothes off the hangers in my closet in such a way that the hangers are left on the rod, but completely askew. The bottom of the hanger is then an excellent hypotenuse for a triangle formed by the floor and the wall. I never noticed this or was bothered by it until I got married and my husband discovered that it never failed to crack me up when he would go into HIS closet and say, “Oh, I want it to look more like YOUR closet in here!” and start tilting all of the empty hangers up into the air.
3) I love popsicles but even the THOUGHT of my teeth closing down on a wooden popsicle stick makes my skin crawl with dread and my gag reflex go on alert. It’s worse than nails on a chalkboard. My teeth on a popsicle stick… UGH… I have to go lie down, now that I talked about that.
4) Here’s one that only my mom knows: When I wanted to start shaving my legs, at about age 11, my mom was afraid I would cut myself with a razor and okayed Nair, instead. Fine. I closed myself in the bathroom, read the instructions, and went about applying it to my legs. I think I must’ve started with my thighs and worked down to my calves, resulting in some leaning over during application. When it was time to rinse, I noticed that I’d gotten some on my panties. Oh well! I’ll just take them off… and half of my pubic hair with them. At first I was horrified. Then I couldn’t stop laughing. My first freaky pube-do! At 11! Do you think it was an omen?
5) I skipped so many days of gym my freshman year of high school, I FAILED. And had to take double blocks of gym as a sophomore. In my defense, they wanted us to swim in the green and murky pool (first problem) with only about 5 minutes to shower and dress afterwards (second problem). So, I claimed to have my period as many days as I thought I could reasonably appear credible and skipped most of the others. Whoops.
6) I derive an inordinate amount of glee from fresh linens. I am never happier than when I have just put fresh sheets on all the beds and given everyone fresh towels. For this reason–despite the number of television undercover investigation news shows featuring black lights that reveal semen-marinated bedspreads–I love staying in hotels. The sheets and towels are always newly laundered and I didn’t have to do any laundry! It’s a little slice of heaven on earth! Plus, I always pull the bedspread down all the way and let it fall onto the floor. Just in case.
There you have it. I feel so much closer to you all, now. In fact, I offer you a bonus tidit:
7) I got some good news today. I celebrated by buying shoes (on clearance). (Then I celebrated buying the shoes by buying a cheese grater to use on my feet, which didn’t feel all that celebratory, although it has a purple handle, which–I assume–is to distract me from the fact that I am USING A CHEESE GRATER ON MY FEET.)
OMG, you mean I’m not the only person in the world with popsicle stick phobia?? Just reading number 3 on your list had me squirming uncomfortably and putting my hand over my mouth. (Seriously!)
I’ll pay extra for popcicles and/or ice cream bars with no stick so that there’s NO chance of my teeth or lips scraping against one. (shudder)
Whew I can come out of the closet about my “phobia” about the wooden sticks in popsicles and ice cream. I am gagging as I write this. Thank you for sharing knowing YOU have this makes me feel so much more normal :) One of your fans, Alicia
I will have to check out the popsicle stick thingie. I’m still horrified over the pool water. And the Nair story was cute.
My mom found out I shaved my legs in the middle of a Girl Scout meeting. Cadets even and she was appauled. I was pretty darn proud, I didn’t even nick myself…but I’ve made up for that since.
Coming out of lurker land, just to say I HATE POPSICLE STICKS! Did you realize how many people you were going to give the heebie jeebies? My kids will chew on them when they’re done with the popsicle and I can’t watch.
It all seems pretty normal to me.
Let me know how how the cheese grater works out, calloused feet need to know!
Tip that you probably already know: linen spray (or even Febreeze) makes that awesome clean linen feeling EVEN BETTER!
1) FIRST freaky pube-do?
2) Are you related to Imelda Marcos?
’cause Woulda readers (read me) want to know – and are pretty damned curious with fertile (read prurient) imaginations.
I failed gym too, for the same reason. Though I would forge notes from my mother giving me all sorts of lame excuses.
I second the clean linens fetish, especially in hotels. That feeling when you first crawl in and the sheets are crisp and fresh — hoo boy.
Congratulations on the spanking new shoes (and um, the accompanying cheese grater). Spring has sprung and I suppose that means the footsies have to get prepared to face the world.
Gah, your list is so much better than mine. Mine was something like 1.) I like chicken 2.) I don’t like peas, etc.
But fresh linens are a gift from the heavens.
Add me to the list of popsicle stick haters. And allow me introduce this new monster to our nightmare: wooden spoons that accompany ice cream cups. My college roommates found my fear of the ice cream spoon so hilarious, that they tied about 20 of them together and threw them in the shower with me. So, don’t read this part if you’re a hater, the wooden spoons stuck to my wet body. Oh man, I’ve gotta go curl up in a ball now.
I have one of those cheese grater thingies. Not, alas, with a purple handle, but still! And I’m with you on the popsicle stick thing. Gah. Finally, what is the good news, you big tease, you?
Woot! Furry Mir Tidbits! I feel like I know you so much better now, in a creepy internet kinda way. ;-)
I am SO WITH YOU on the popsicle stick thing! But my phobia also extends to wooden spoons, packing boxes, and the cardboard backs of legal pads and spiral notebooks. I need to stop typing now because I have to lie under my desk for a few minutes to get over the mental image I just summoned up.
The best combination is clean sheets with freshly shaven legs!!! Nothing is silkier…
My wife also has the popsicle stick problem which is great for me…I’m guaranteed to always get the last few bites of an ice cream bar.
Wow, I always thought the popsicle stick thing made me and my sister weird. Boyfriends, and now husband, have often teased me. For me it definitely extends to the ice cream “spoons,” but it isn’t just tongue contact for me–I can’t touch them. I have to unwrap the popsicle or ice cream part of the bar and hold the wrapper around the stick as I eat it. I was thrilled at the advent of Klondikes.
Gym Class Flunkies UNITE! I think we should start a club.
What is WITH you people and your popsicle stick issues? Don’t you know that the true horror in this entry is the damn FOOT GRATER? GOOD LORD, WOMAN.
Don’t speak to me. I’m going away to my happy place now…
You SERIOUSLY crack me up! I am not sure how I would get through the day without reading your blog and finding out that I am not as strange as I think I am…or at least that you are too. Popsicle sticks…YUCK! I don’t even let my kids have them because I am so disturbed by them!
What’s the good news? Even if it’s not as entertaining as usual.
Thank heavens you have the popsicle thing too. I didn’t reveal that one because mine were nutty enough!
New pube doo is PRICELESS. That is a hoot in a half.
So…what was your good news? In my line of work there is only one kind of good news and that’s another baby!! Probably not the same in your world!
#4 is KILLING me. And not even killing me softly, mind you.
I too failed freshman year gym class… and then was the one and only junior in gym class. Further displaying my amazing lack of athletic ability and uncoordinated method of movement.
The (gak) wooden (gak) popsicle sticks (gak)… I KNOW! In fact, you know how your sense of smell is able to conjure up a load of memories and sensations? Like bread baking= comfort, roses=funerals, etc? Well, my WPS phobia is so strong that the smell of wet wood will bring on the goosebumps. Cardboard backing, though? That’s just wierd.
WHAT good news? Must be pretty good to warrant shoe buying, so give it up! Damn, girl, you’re such a tease! ;)
OK I am so glad I tagged you because those were funny as hell (so were RSM’s she’s just being modest). Also yours were weird as hell. Nair? Popsicle sticks? Hangers? Nice segues. Gold stars to you. See? Even though you failed gym you passed this test with flying colors.
Oooooh! A cheese grater! What a fantastic idea! I usually stand on the front porch and scrape my feet back and forth on the concrete step, but that’s just digusting ole me.
Oh, and the Nair thing–it’s got me thinking. My eight year old is desperately self conscious about her hairy legs (aw, bless her) and I was thinking about letting her use Nair. My first experience with it was supposed to be a very secret thing, so I chose to do this secret hair removal thing in the bathroom at the dance place where I was about to do a recital. I know! I smelled like lemon Pledge, and my legs were all irritated.
Damn, sorry for sort of hijacking your comments section. Love your blog though.
I absolutely hate Ice lolly sticks. I feel sick if I even see them on the floor, my colleagues tease me mercilessly about it
Even the stirrers in starbucks make me feel sick, I cannot touch them or drink the tea once it has been stirred witg one of these evil objects
i am also scard of ice lolly sticks. they should be collected and burnt.