Memes of days gone by

I'm going through old bloggies that I posted in the last two years, give or take, on my Myspace blog. When I find something that amuses me, I will post it again here for you. This is a meme I did back in September that I find mildly amusing. Enjoy.


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I'm doing this because Lotus told me to do it. And when one is instructed to do something by Lotus, by God, you do it.

This is a collection of 10 random, cruel and/or unusual facts about me. I'm sure all of you could write 10,000 more unusual facts about me after reading my nonsense.

I'm supposed to tag 10 people to do this as well after I have completed it. Unfortunately, Lotus stole many of the people I would have tagged, because those are the people I know would have done it. So, I am forced to force 10 other people to complete this, despite the fact that I know they will not want to do it. I lack the energy to pick 10 people, so pick yourself if you find this interesting. By the power of Soapy, I command you!

Alrighty. Without further ado...




1. I save "used" paper towels. We don't buy napkins anymore. We buy those rolls of paper towels that come in smaller sheets you can tear off. Sometimes I am less messy than other times. So, instead of throwing away a perfectly good (or what seems to me) paper towel, I save it. I think this is driving Phil insane. My version of saving means that it sits on the couch in some manner until I use it in the future. I am a slob. I feel some amount of shame mixed with horror over my paper towel saving because in my former life I made fun of my mother for saving paper plates that had been used. She felt that if a mere sandwich and chips had touched the plates, then they were worth saving. I think if some kind of juice or sauce had soiled them, that was the only way she would dispose of them. How vulgar, I used to think. Now it is me who is vulgar, yet earth-friendly.



2. I am a genetic freak. While I was taking a lab course in genetics, I discovered that I am indeed a medical oddity. We were instructed to observe our various bodily features, specifically our fingerprints and earlobes. I have attached earlobes, which are less common than detached lobes. Not so weird, you say? Well, I haven't talked about the fingerprints yet. There are three main types of fingerprints. whorls, loops, and arches. This article may help you understand what I am talking about: geeky stuff about fingerprints. People are supposed to have a random mix of at least two or three of the kinds of fingerprints.

As I watched, all of my classmates typed their fingerprints as a random mix of whorls, loops, and arches. I kept looking at my fingers, and then at the chart, and then at my fingers, and then at my classmates, and then at my fingers, etc, etc. As it turns out, I have a freaky and consistent pattern of loop, whorl, loop, whorl, loop. Repeated on both hands. This, my friends, is not normal.

I went to parents' house soon after this freakish discovery. I demanded to see my parents' hands. My mom's hands were normal - a random mix. My dad's hands, however, were more freakish than mine. His fingerprints - every single finger - are ALL whorls. Now who's the circus freak, eh? Huh? Amos' hands are too small for me to investigate whether or not he has inherited this collection of oddities.



3. I talk to myself in the mirror - a lot. I replay conversations I've had with people, sometimes punctuated with even wittier things that I should have said. I create conversations that have never and perhaps will never exist. When I think I'm alone in the house, I'll even walk from room to room and have these conversations, complete with gestures and giggles that the other person should have. Phil has probably heard me do this, and again, probably thinks I'm insane. My guess is that I developed this quirk as a child who had to play by herself a great deal. I was called "motor mouth" by my mother, and I would hide in my room and talk to myself, since no one else apparently wanted to hear me. Now I use my blogs to blather on and on. Aren't you the lucky ones.



4. Some people know this, but not all. I was a metal chick. I had big hair in high school (yes, even bigger than what it normally does), and I went to a lot of concerts and shows. I was somewhat of a groupie, but I didn't sleep with musicians. People in my school thought I was a slut because I dated or had familiarity/friendships with various musicians, local and beyond. I was actually a devout virgin at the time.

Countless singers, drummers, bass guitarists, and whathaveyou were the focus of my desires. I was invited to "hang out" in the hotel room of Mark Slaughter and Dana Strum, the fellas from that cheesy metal band, Slaughter. I told them I didn't think my mother would appreciate that. I had a penpal/flirty thing going on with the keyboardist from a well-known, top 40 band. I swapped spit with lots of coverband musicians, some of which I will regret for the rest of my life. Some, not so much.

Observe:





5. Probably mentioned this many times before, but I am a bastard child. My parents met in Reno, Nevada after both of them went through nasty divorces. My dad went to a casino to beat up a guy who stole his silk shirt, but he couldn't find him. So, he sat down in the casino coffee shop for a nosh. He just happened to sit next to my mother, who was waiting for her cousin to get off work. She shared her pie with him. Ten months later (or so), I was born. They married two months after I was born.

I didn't find this out until I was 15, and I found out on my own as I snooped through some documents in their room. I was looking for my SAT scores from taking the SATs in the 7th grade (yes, I am a great big nerd who took the SATs in junior high), and I stumbled upon something called "Marriage Certificate." I thought, wow, I've never seen this before. Then I saw the date. It listed "1973" instead of "1972", as they had always told me. Eventually they admitted it to me. To this day, I sometimes shock my mother by trying to be funny and calling myself her bastard child.

My folks around the time they met, give or take a few years:

Dad with my siblings, Michelle and Jason.


Dad as a happy go-lucky, smoker-a-go-go.


Mom, caught in a rare moment of laughter.


The hottest woman in cat glasses.




6. I attended something like 9 different schools in three different states before the sixth grade. We moved around a lot because my father bopped around from job to job and probably has a raging case of ADHD. I did really well with the moving and making friends in new places. My siblings, however, did not. They were older and in junior high or high school, and they tended to not do so well in class. It was hard on my family as a whole. But... I find that it has made me a well-rounded individual with a yearning for travel and to see new things. Luckily, I married a man who is not tied down to his hometown and also enjoys the sights and sounds. I look forward to showing Amos that there is life beyond Denver.

This is me in the 2nd grade at the first school I attended. I believe this was our Easter pageant. Phil calls this picture "Sarah and the Pips." It is funny and very wrong for him to say that.





7. I am shy and introverted, and somewhat of a hermit. That is, until I get to know you. My shyness, coupled with my intelligence, makes a lot of people think of me as snooty in person. It pains me that people think that of me, but it's just how I am. Once you get to know me, I tend to go too far in the other direction. I am boisterous, loud, and I try to outwit everyone or be the funniest person in the room. I have a dry, biting wit that can make many people feel very uncomfortable and think that I am attacking them rather than just trying to be funny. I also bleed from the mouth. I don't censor what I am thinking, and I am always wanting to swallow my words. If you know all these things about me before diving head-first into a friendship with me, it's best for everyone involved.

Also, just about everything I write in my blogs, comments, or whatever, is written purely with tongue firmly planted in cheek. If it ever seems that I've said something to you that was just downright cruel, please don't take it that way. I am almost always joking. When am I not joking? Well, that's probably the part that makes it difficult to read me. Sorry. I don't mean to be an enigma.



8. I'm having one helluva time trying to come up with more than seven things. This is probably because I am far too truthful in my blogs and I tell you too many things about myself. Damn it. I need more secrets.



9. I am attracted to Jewish men. I developed this proclivity after I met Phil. I think it is an attraction born from seeing men who sort of look like Phil. Phil isn't Jewish, but so many people think that he is. This explains why I am hot for Zach Braff and Dave Attell. Yes, I get all blushy and flustered when I think of the squatty, gnome-like Dave Attell.


Ah, I should also add that I am attracted to FUNNY Jewish men. I am loathe to admit that I even find Rabbi Shmuly a tad attractive (the guy from "Shalom in the Home"). I laugh and laugh at the thought of saying, "Oye vey, Shmuly. You've shmucked my gefilte fish." Which probably makes absolutely no sense in Yiddish.





10. I was a sad and dark soul before I met Phil. I was the product of a sad family, and I went to a sad little school in a sad little town where I met sad people. I dated sad boys and made sad remarks, and I sat in sad little heaps in my sad clothes. Then, I met Phil. Everything changed after that. I discovered that I really like to laugh, and I really, really enjoy making others giggle. I am still somewhat sad sometimes, but it pales in comparison to the brighter, happier person I am now.

To give you some idea of how sad and dark I was, here is the description my friend Keith (who is one of the most astutely observant people I've ever met) made of me, when asked how he pictured me ten years after high school:

"Sarah will be living in a tiny apartment in New York City. She will wear nothing but black. She will be surrounded by huge piles of books in her tiny apartment. One day, one of those piles of books will fall over on her and kill her. No one will know about it for days. Many will mourn her passing."

Ha! I've shown you, Keith! Now, I will be killed by a huge, falling pile of slightly used paper towels. And many will laugh about it.