I got tagged! Ooooh, I'm so excited!

Thanks Meredith for tagging me! This is my first tagging! I'm so excited! I feel so popular or something!

The subject is "Five Things You Don't Know About Me."

Many of my readers will already know these things....but they know everything about me so there's not much I could do about that. So here goes!

1. When J. and I were dating, back in high school, there wasn't a whole lot to do in smalltown USA. My parents were gone and apparently we'd already exhausted the fondling/fellatio activities that we satisfied ourselves with since we weren't bold enough to be having sex yet. So one night, out of sheer boredom, I asked J. if he dared me to piss my pants. Of course he said yes so I went and got a towel from the bathroom, placed it on the foyer floor, and proceeded to piss myself in my gray sweatpants. J. was stunned that I actually did it, which made me kinda proud, and then I gathered myself up and went straight down to the washer and cleaned up the mess. Yep.

2. I must preface this by saying that anyone who knows me knows that I am an open-minded, accepting person who not only tolerates those of other cultures/races/religions but am quite interested in finding out more of them. But please understand, this was back when I was like 12, and it's haunted me ever since. I had a friend named Deanna. Her mother was white and her father was black. All were very nice. We had dance lessons together and her parents and mine took turns carpooling us around, and we got together for sleepovers now and then. One night Deanna was at my house and I was gushing over the latest magazine photo I'd found of Simon LeBon. In the photo, Simon looked...rather tan. So tan, in fact, that I had to comment on it to Deanna....and before I knew what happened, I had used the "n-word" in reference to his appearance. I was horrified, and unfortunately lacked the social skills to know what to do, so we had an awkward silence and then went on like nothing happened. We remained friends for some time after that, but I have felt so terrible about it ever since. I think she lives in Texas now, and at least 10 times a year I feel like I should try to find her and send her an apology. A horrible moment in my life, for sure. So horrible that I feel that by confessing it, at least I'm punishing myself for it in some small way. Okay. Let's move on.

3. I have an unhealthy obsession with serial killers. Their stories, the grisly details, everything. I believe it all started when I read "Helter Skelter" when I was about 11 (although technically, I think the Manson family would be called mass murderers rather than serial killers) and then moved on to read Ann Rule's "The Stranger Beside Me" about Ted Bundy at least 10 times. I think my fascination stems from my desire to know all I can about what I fear the most, thinking that I can somehow protect myself from it. This obsession troubled Tingle a bit, especially when J. and I showed her, within 15 minutes of their arrival for their first visit to our home, the antique meat cleaver we had hanging in the basement.

4. I was never and will never be athletic, so gym class was often traumatic for me. I was the last picked for everything, and when I was picked it was often accompanied by groans of displeasure from the jock-types. One day, in 4th grade gym class, we were playing kickball, and I was assigned to far left field or something that was assumed to have the least amount of responsibility possible. I was incredibly bored, so I turned my attention to grooming my fingernails. I was so intent on this activity that I didn't notice it when, of course, someone kicked the ball directly to my area. It slammed into my head. I was ridiculed. Now I think it's pretty funny, though, so it all worked out in the end.

5. The curse of the shit rock came early in my life. When I was a baby, I rolled off the counter during the nanosecond that my mother reached for the shampoo. I got a skull fracture so I had to stay in the hospital overnight. My mother ran home for a change of clothing as she would be spending the night with me. While she was hurriedly putting her things together, a chaplain knocked on the door, and when she opened it, he said "I'm so sorry your daughter has passed away." Obviously frantic, my mother raced back to the hospital to find me safe and sound. I had apparently been put on the "wrong list" by accident. And so began my life....

Okay, probably not the best I could do, but I have to get back to work! But not before I tag Tingle, LilCherie and Trish!