Enough about you. Let's talk about me.

OK, so I got asked to play this game. (Though honestly it doesn't really seem like much of a game, as there's no winner, and no opponent, and this is all crap you never wanted to know about me, but whatever.) Here are the rules:

The first player of this game starts with the topic “five weird habits/facts about you,” and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits/facts as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to tag five people and link to their blogs. Don’t forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says “You have been tagged” (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.

Here goes:

1. The word "moist" makes me twitch. I just hate it. You know how people react to fingernails on a chalkboard? That's me when I hear the "M" word. It's not the meaning that grosses me out so much as the actual sound of the word. It's all "oooiiiiissss", and I find that strangely disgusting. Also, when people chew on the ends of their sweatshirt drawstrings I want to punch them in the face. Just thinking about it, I got drymouth and my gag reflex triggered. Right now. Again. Eeew.

2. Even if I am standing right in front of you, looking right at you and even carrying on a conversation with you, if you suddenly exclaim "BOO!" with a crazy look in your eye, I will be genuinely terrified, girlishly squeal, jump and perhaps even get teary-eyed. Then, I will tackle you and beat you with the pointy end of my right pump, you sick asshole.

3. I have this problem with driving. Those of you who know me understand this, either from actually riding in a vehicle with me or from the people brave enough to do so. There is simply some part of my DNA that makes me unable to drive with an ounce of confidence or skill. Driving alone, I'm perfectly capable. A cool cucumber. But the moment someone else gets in the car, my mojo gets all conflibberated and I suddenly lose all sense of direction and become totally distracted by any number of superficial things unrelated to driving or knowing where the hell I'm going. However, I have perfectly applied lipgloss and fantastic music blaring at all times.

Here is a short list of bad things I've done on wheels to illustrate my point:
- knocked a huge mailbox port off it's post... and into a river, never to return... when I was 13
- drove a tractor (no joke) through a garage door... when I was under 10 (years old, not drinks deep, jerks)
- rear-ended a school bus on the way to high school... and it was the short kind
- gotten my old 3/4 ton chevy pickup on 2 wheels, more than once
- run completely over my infant brother learning how to ride a bike - with training wheels
- backed into a car, causing it major damage, while trying to leave a liquor store parking lot -- when I was underage

4. I arrange and rearrange things on my bookshelf and my bureau CONSTANTLY. I only have a certain number of books and picture frames, but I get the biggest kick out of setting each object just so, making sure the visual balance is right, the colors complement each other, and the books look appropriately rifled through without looking messy, while being sure they're in order from tall to short. However if you open my dresser drawers, my armoire or look under my bed, the perfection of the setup is all a facade. I really don't give a crap where things actually go, so long as where I put them gets them out of sight.

5. I'm BIG on "piles". My desk at work? Piles of paper, clippings, magazines, to-do lists. Similarly, at home, there is sometimes stuff on the floor, but always it's in a "neat" pile. For example, at this precise moment, there are probably 15 articles of clothing on the floor in my room. But they're not strewn about, they're in a litte heap in a corner... almost put away, almost organized, but not quite. In my kitchen, there are bills from oh, I dunno, 1998, and written but unmailed letters to my grandma, and credit card statements and junk mail envelopes and coupons and all sorts of shit that I could make go away like ::that:: but instead put in these tidy/infuriating little piles on the windowsill, as if they're there for a reason and on Sunday morning I plan to sit down and do something very important with it. Which, obviously, I don't. I plan to just add to the pile. Think there's a metaphor in there somewhere?


So there you have it. I'm tagging the following peeps:

Monkey Business (heh.)
Digital Nutella (perhaps you need a nudge to start up again?)
Drew (might not go for it... but if he does, it will be clever, hip-hop, AND well-written)
Ixtab (because I just find her so funny and am CONVINCED she's got some good ones)
Pat (because he's a publicity whore, and his answers will likely involve animal cruelty, drinking or midgets... or all three)