Quirks

I've been tagged a few more times, so here goes. The rules are as follows:

1. Link the person who tagged you
2.Post these rules
3.Tell about six unspectacular quirks about yourself
4.Tag six fellow bloggers by link

1. I am a gum snob. I am more likely to give you a vital organ than my last piece of gum. Freud would probably blame my mother who, when spurred by a gum craving, would go to her purse in vain, finding only an empty pack of gum and countless wrappers. She would fly into a fit of innocuous (Mormon) expletives and swear vengeance, which never came to pass. I carry on the tradition and breed fear into my offspring, who know that depending on my mood, asking for gum could be potentially fatal.


2. I am a bleeding heart. A gushing, spurting, bloody mess. I can be suckered into any good cause. Cases in point: When I was twelve, I played mother duck to eight lost and distressed ducklings that lived on our property. I was beside myself with worry that they couldn't find their mother. I quacked my way, arms flapping, from the barn to the pond. They followed me, so I must have made one great duck! I was once talked into helping the "March of Dimes" by canvassing several neighborhoods and begging for donations (which is not my forte to begin with) while nine months pregnant. I literally cannot pass a homeless person without donating something, which sometimes amounts to little more than a few pennies and some pocket fuzz. Last summer I bought several magazine subscriptions from an inner-city African American boy who claimed to be a recovering drug addict. He bled me dry after showing me pictures of his two illegitimate children and his crippled mother on a park bench. Below is a picture of a recent bleeding heart scheme that I fell victim to. I found this shirt in a store and the tag said, "Proceeds from your purchase will be donated to end hunger in Africa by the year 2025." How could I not buy it?! What if my purchase was that last $20 they needed to end world hunger??!!! So if you want sympathy (or want to see my great duck impression or need a buck or two) I'm your gal!



3. I have a hate-hate relationship with my alarm clock. Truthfully it borders on a homicidal bias; I loathe the thing. Here's what happens every morning in my bedroom. Depending on the morning, I vary the time I set for the alarm to go off. Predictably it goes off right on time, and I, in a hazy stupor, fling my left arm over my body and pound the bedside table with surprising force until I pummel the snooze button. This is the part where most people go back to sleep, or at least doze dreamily. But not me, oh no. This is the part where I lay silently fuming, admittedly not completely conscious, but definitely not peacefully tugging myself from sleep. I smolder. I seethe. I think of all the ways I could decimate the thing. Once again, I'm sure Freudian theorists would have a field day analyzing my quasi-cognizant reactive state. The snooze-button bashing goes on for quite some time most mornings, which is completely counter-productive since I rarely go back to sleep. I probably need therapy but it's a great way to expel some pent-up aggression every day! Kudos to Sean who is either very patient during my morning ritual or is off running somewhere.

4. To coin the old Lays potato chip phrase, "no one can eat just one...," well, I can't eat just one of anything. Even if I don't like it. The sad truth is that I usually eat ALL of whatever it is I'm eating. For example, Frito Lay came out with these Flat Earth Cinnamon Apple chips and they don't sell them in the snack size, so I buy the big bag. And eat the whole thing. In one sitting. I don't need to be hungry, depressed or bored, I just keep eating because that's what I do. Mind you, I don't do it every day, but I've been known to pack in large amounts of food in one sitting and raise some eyebrows. So if anyone is up for an eating contest, I say, "Bring it on!"

5. Quite contrary to my language-loving nature, there are specific words in the English language that I despise. (Again, the negativity thing...I obviously have issues). I won't provide an exhaustive list, but here are a few to give you an idea: side dish, sophistry, felicitous, slice, spandex, hemmroid (I won't eat Altoids because they conjure up that word in my head), scrotum and testicle (yes, I went there!), and plush (an aside: my son purchased this freaky "plush" rendition of Edgar Martinez during the garage sale last week. How drunk did Edgar have to be in order to agree to that gig??? Notice the "WalMart" logo on the freaky bear's paw. That explains A LOT). I could go on, but I won't. Suffice it to say that you won't hear me use these words voluntarily. Although I did have to use "side dish" in an email yesterday and fell victim to a migraine shortly thereafter.

6. I will close with a phrase that I repeat in my head almost daily; usually when I've completed something difficult. I borrow the phrase from the '90s movie, "Pig in the City," and it was spoken by the pensive Scottish farmer who owned Pig. After Pig had saved the city, the farmer said, "That'll do, Pig. That'll do." I love that phrase.

So I'm going to tag Sara Holdman, Keslie Houser, Sydney Young, Michelle Taylor, Tami Smith and Shelby Steele. Inspire me, ladies.

See ya!