laura at green inventions central tagged me with a fun, carefree meme that asks me to share six random things about myself. so, in the hopes of sharing six things you didn't already know (unless you are my mom), here goes . . .
1. i sucked my thumb until i was eight years old. i did this in defiance of the agreement i made with my mom that i was old enough to give up the habit when i turned six. despite her belief that i was faithfully upholding my end of this bargain, i secretly stuck it out for two more years.
2. i have never broken a bone in my body. this says more about my scaredy-cat-ness than anything else. while my sister was out wrestling the neighborhood boys and scraping up her knees and elbows, i remained safely inside, reading books and keeping my pink dresses crisp and clean. i guess you could say i've kept this prim-and-proper approach to physical risk-taking throughout my life. none of my bones have ever been forced to go places they weren't meant to go, and i hope they never will.
3. kirk has informed me that i have four stages of eating. stage one: full absorption. this is when i quickly and fully enjoy each and every bite of the meal i have mentally anticipated eating all evening long. i usually enter into this stage with all of the attendant exclamations of enjoyment you would expect, such as "this is so good!" and "i can't believe how freakin' delicious this is." stage two: slowing down. this is when i still enjoy every bite of the experience, but the fork's speed from plate to mouth begins to slow. stage three: negotiation. at this point, i still want to enjoy the food that remains on my plate, but i've begun to realize that the space inside my tummy is finite and every forkful of food now matters. so i begin to negotiate with the food, carrying out a nonverbal conversation about which remaining bites most deserve to be eaten. kirk can tell this conversation is going on, even though he's not privy to what's being said between me and the food. stage four: total and utter disgust. at this point, it's over. in one quick and decisive move, i push the plate across the table, as far away from me as possible. i simply cannot stand the thought of another bite, much less the look or smell of any of that remaining food.
4. recently, i told kirk we must add one more stage to this process. stage five: dessert. because let's be honest. no matter how full the stomach or how disgusted the taste buds, there's always room for dessert.
5. my girl cat, diva, has developed an attachment. in animal terms, you could say she has imprinted. in physical terms, this means that she follows me around everywhere. even when i am not moving, she is there. for instance, i can be laying in bed reading. if i close the book, i see that she is sitting directly behind it, next to me, staring at me. just staring, unending staring. sometimes, when i close my eyes to rest, i will open them and see her still sitting there, her face up close to mine, staring. i should begin calling her diva the stare-er. except that's too awkward to say.
6. when i was in college, i was so addicted to dr. pepper that i had to compel myself into a fast. for the last eight months of school, from october until graduation day in may, i did not let one sip of dr. pepper pass my lips. my sister gave me a 24-pack as a graduation gift. interestingly enough, i think it took me about three months to finish it. (normally it would have taken me less than a week.) today, my drink of choice is pepsi.