Tagged, like the cow.

At least once a week, I scold Lachlan for her penchant for tear-assing down hallways and smashing into unsuspecting little me as I come around the corner.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I say, rubbing my knees where they’ve collided with hers. “You need a cowbell.”

So methinks it’s her sweet revenge to tag me like a floppy-eared bovine.

First rule of Fight Club is: You do not talk about… Oh wait, wrong rules.

The Rules:

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them each a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

The Eight:

1. HABIT: Hmmm. Habits are hard to identify because…well, they’re habits. The defintion of a habit is “an acquired behavior pattern regularly followed until it has become almost involuntary” - in other words, things we do without thinking about them. So I’m thinking about the things I do that I do without thinking. I think I think too much.

2. FACT: I am secretly shy. Kevin says it’s not a secret but I can’t bring myself to confirm that.

3. FACT: I was born in Deadwood - yes, that Deadwood. The Deadwood I grew up in actually looked a lot more like the 19th century TV version than what it looks like now. Legalized gambling has turned that town into a gaudy nightmare.

4. FACT: I adore Mediterranean food, could eat it every day til I die. If it has tomatoes, or olives, or garlic, I’ll eat it. Good bread is manna from heaven; red wine is nectar of the gods. I’m a lactose intolerant paradox of a cheese whore.

5. FACT: I don’t like to cook, but I love to bake. As I write this, I nibble on banana bread I made a couple of days ago. I could never be a low-carb devotee, for what is life without sourdough? Cornbread muffins? Cake!? Kevin appreciates my single culinary interest, though he does wonder how I manage to get so much flour on my butt in the process.

6. HABIT: I feel fortunate that I don’t have many unhealthy habits. I don’t smoke, eat junk, drink to excess, or have unsafe sex with random partners of dubious integrity. I even wear my seatbelt. In the physical realm, I am quite the goody-two-shoes. My bad habits inhabit the intangible, such as the tendency to stew too much about things that piss me off. Fucking habits!

7. FACT: I almost always have a hard time falling asleep. My brains need to wind down, not stop short. And I’m not one of those people that can fall asleep anywhere. I have to be comfortable, lying down; have darkness, quiet, a blankie.

8. HABIT: For several years every Thanksgiving, I have given a hundred dollars to the Union Gospel Mission. It truly is a habit in the sense that the perks of doing it (the feeling of goodwill toward men and all that) are barely conscious to me now, yet I can’t imagine not doing it.

Well, since I’m on a roll, I have another confession to make: I don’t have enough blogger friends to comply with rules 4 and 5. The few bloggers I actually know either have already been tagged very recently or are on indefinite hiatus.

Thus I tag my remaining eligible victim, Amaya.

9. FACT: I’ve never been much of a joiner, anyway.