Darn it. Princess Tomato tagged me. Seven facts, huh? About me? Well, Tomato is one of those people, for whom I will do whatever she tells me to. I’ll keep it short and no photos of my scars. Here goes!
1. I am a mafia princess in the witness protection program.
2. I was on the grassy knoll.
3. I hung and dimpled all those chads in Broward County. Blame me.
4. Elvis is alive in my crawl space.
5. I like piña coladas. And getting caught in the rain. I’m not into health food. I am in-to cham-pagne.
6. I’m from the planet Quimmerix. Surrender now before I quimmirerate your heads.
7. I’m one sarcastic, sardonic hausfrau and could go on like this all day.
Seven things: I’m not that big on self-indulgence (yeah, yeah, and I blog: I’m a hypocrite—let that be “1.” Not that self-indulgent all at once, maybe). Part of the reason I really love the German language, is the fact that the word “I” is “ich”: Lower case (while forms of “you” are capitalized), and therefore “ich” is somewhat demoted. Plus it is pronounced “EEEE” and ends in a cat hiss. If you’re lucky, that is: In some of the lovelier parts of Germany, “ich” is “EEEE” plus above-mentioned cat coughing up a hair ball. “Ich” is just a sound to avoid. I prefer to talk about ideas. I don’t like to talk about people. Oh, let that count as “1” instead. Six more to go. All right, already …
2. I have 400 pages of a novel on my hard drive. Pure pulp. But I’d show it to a literary agent, if I ever run into one.
3. I’ll go to a museum of anything. If somebody took the time to put it in a glass case, I want to know about it. I stop the car at historic landmarks.
4. I’m still going with the mafia princess thing. That will give me some street creds and will strike some nice anxious fear into the hearts of all the literary agents I run into. And the planet Quimmerix stuff: Totally true. But not the sarcastic bit, no, not one bit of truth there.
5. I used to fly sailplanes and I have a deep, unrequited love of aviation.
6. My mother died of cancer. I think that will be my fate, as well. You can’t do much about the length of your life, just the depth and breadth.
I’m supposed to tag other people? Shoot. I’ll tag K.P., because she’s self-indulgent in a good way. See, she was taking steroids for this horrible shoulder-neck-nerve nasty pain and now she’s stopped taking them. And since steroids are basically chemical hormones, the girl is going through some hormone-induced mood swings: In other words, basically, K.P. is a teenager. She’s coloring her hair pink and is saying things like, “Gawd, people are SUCH idiots!” Just like that. Let’s see if she’ll tell us if Doc Martens really are flame retardant, how to dye a cat pink … but, oh please, nothing about high school home ec class. Please.
Diana: To me, she’s like the other new kid at school. We started our blogs at about the same time and she helps me. I hope she likes me, too.
Chris: Chris has got a lot to say. And she needs to practice her English for the test.
Diba: Up to this, Barbara darling? I can read your mind, so I could do this for you…
I don’t know seven blogsters that well! Um … Cree’s already been tagged … I might just have to hit the “next blog” button.
Sabine: Yeah, Sabine-Sweet Caroline, because she’s visits my blog and is consistently positive.
Some folks I know need their space ... who? Who? Who? AHA! All the Jaynes: Get on your blog. That's close to seven.
Guess I better go tell ‘em: Tagged! You’re “it”!