Isn’t that random?
I’ve been tagged by the lovely and talented and she-who-has-my-dream-job (editing erotic/romantic fiction) Scooper to tell you all 10 random things about me.
I’ve already told you oodles of strange things about me, but here are some more. It’s possible I’m strange enough to just keep doing this every day, but I won’t.
Rules: No re-tagging, write a blog with 10 weird random things, facts, or habits about yourself, chose 10 people to be tagged and list their names, leave a comment that says “you are tagged” on their profile, and tell them to read your latest blog.
1. I’m kind of obsessive. I will latch onto an idea or a theme or a particular type of information and try to find out everything I can about it, exhaustively, and then I’ll drop it. I do this with types of books quite a bit. I’ll read everything I can about Jack the Ripper, get tired of it, move on to books about New Orleans, glut myself, move on to old bodice rippers… And so it goes.
2. I used to count words as I spoke. I’d do it on one hand, tapping my fingers against my thumb as I spoke. I didn’t actually keep track of how many words, I’d just have to tap as I spoke. It’s weird.
3. I used to lie a lot. Now I can barely manage it. It makes me really uncomfortable.
4. When I was little my cousins and I had to go to etiquette classes at a local ritzy club.
5. When Lancelot first met me he thought I was “a cold, hard woman.” Hah!
6. People used to tell me I had a phone sex operator voice all the dang time. I don’t know what that was all about. And I don’t know why they don’t say it anymore.
7. I’m secretly in love with Brad Paisley. I just think he’s so charmingly down to earth and sexy. He has a great sense of humor, too.
8. I used to sprinkle baby powder on the wooden floors in my bedroom so that I could slide around and dance in my socks.
9. I’ve had sex on top of Stone Mountain. The very top. Where there really isn’t anywhere to hide. What the hell were we thinking?
10. Several times in my past I have somehow managed to offend angry chicks to a degree that they really, really hate me. To this day I have no idea what I did, if anything, but these girls loathed me.
That’s it! Your turn. I won’t tag anyone but feel free to steal this. And, please, tell me something random about yourself.
I’m exactly like you when it comes to obsessing. Actually I keep folders on my desktop to keep up with what I was obsessed with. I’m mostly that way about travel. Adam gets sick about hearing about it. A few months ago I was obsessed with all things “The Outsiders”. Since the film was made here, I wanted to see all of the places. Now I don’t think about it much.
i too, am like you with obsessing. and oddly, i am also strangely obsessed with new orleans!
So…what are you obsessing at the moment?
(I so did that thing with the socks, and the sliding…not the baby powder part, but I didn’t need it since I did it on linoleum in the kitchen.
)
Before I married my husband his very strict Polish Catholic parents called me a Jezebelle because they thought I was Methodist (gasp).
I wonder what they would have called me if they’d known that I was Celtic (Pagan) and a stripper (the blasphemy!).
Hi Gypsy,
Great list! I see your comments regularly on Buttercup and Wordnerd’s blogs, and just today, I noticed that you are on Rock Star Mommy’s blogroll. Are you and RSM friends or just blog buddies? It’s such a small world, huh? Hope you’re enjoying your engagement and wedding planning!
Okay, I think I’m a little insane. I thought I linked to you from RSM, but it was actually WordNerd’s blog. Sorry! Have a great weekend!
Yep, I read both Buttercup and Word Nerd. Thanks for stopping by! — Gypsy
I type letters on an imaginary type writer in my head.
Interesting…
— Gypsy
I can’t work unless everything around me is neat. I’ll get up and put stuff away, rearrange files in a neat pile, or whatever until everything is clean and organized. THEN I can concentrate on work.
Wanna come work in my house?
— Gypsy
Girls are vicious people. Most of my female friends hate each other as I tend to mother hen everyone.
Hah! Jealousy? — Gypsy
#9 makes me want to write a little song to the tune of “On Top of Old Smokey.”
On top of Stone Mountain,
Not covered below,
I screwed my lover,
And now you all know…
(bad, but off the cuff)
Love it! — Gypsy
My brain doesn’t have an ‘off’ button. I find myself counting a lot. When I used to swim in high school, I would swim on a 4-beat count. When I run, I count paces between points. If I have to count things I count them two or three times before I believe myself. And I try to make patterns out of license plate numbers and letters. No, not the vanity plates, the random plates.
I feel ya. — Gypsy