Okay, so I haven't actually been "tagged" to do this. Which either means (a.) I have nice friends, (b.) I don't have any friends, or (c.) I need to find a better way to spend this hour of the morning. Sleeping, perhaps? Regardless. In light of the fact that I'm tired, but not yet sleepy or ready for bed (and the fact that this game really is pretty entertaining), I'm starting a "Six Quirky Things" meme tag. (This is probably where I should admit that I don't know what a "meme" is. Other than that she's my grandmother. That's just how I've heard this little tag game referred to...so that's how I referred to it. Which is probably not a good rule to live by. Especially considering what happened to my brother that time he tried out a word on my dad that he'd just heard on the bus, but had no clue what it meant. Hmm. So, anyway...)
The rules of the game are simple: You reveal six quirky things about yourself. Then you tag six other people to do the same on their site by linking to them at the end of your post. Finally, you let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website. (I'm not sure what happens to those people if they don't then jump up and participate, but I bet it's really bad. More than likely they lose their chance at a "blessing", or whatever it is that happens to me when I immediately delete those tag email forwards with the angel pictured at the top of them.) I'm of the opinion that tagging six people is a bit excessive. And while it is outlined in THE RULES that way, I think it's okay if you can only think of a couple of people to tag. I mean (wink...poke..tee-hee-hee), it doesn't mean you're pathetic or lonely or friendless, or anything like that.
Six Quirky Things About Me:
1.) I love Cheetos (a whole lot). The crunchy ones, not the puffy ones. But whenever I eat them, I have this thing about licking the cheesy residue off of my fingers, like most people do. It gives me the heebie-jeebies. I can't do it. It's like I physically CANNOT make my tongue go to my finger. If there's not a sink or wet paper towel handy when it's time to de-orange, I just wipe cheesy goodness all over my jeans.
2.) I can't STAND having anyone brush their teeth near me. Something about the sound. Or the foaming action. Or most likely, it's the spit. I don't know for certain. But it has always grossed me out and made me feel like I'm going to gag and hurl. Sharing a bathroom with brothers growing up was a challenge. I remember several times running out of the room when they started to brush. Or when I couldn't get out of the room fast enough, standing there with my eyes closed and my fingers in my ears, saying "LALALALALAAAAA!". (Sarah, when you were here for New Year's, just brush-brush-brushing away in the kitchen while you talked to all of us, I was about to chunk up my breakfast. The only reason I didn't is because, while I was smiling at you and nodding, I had a little perky mantra going in my head: Don't gag. Look how cute Jackson is! Don't gag. Look how cute Jackson is!)
3.) I always have a fan going when I sleep, preferably two. To me, absolute silence is as spooky as it gets. If I can hear myself breathe (or anyone else breathe, for that matter), it's waaay too quiet. The same rule applies to darkness. Dark-ish is nice. But if I can't see my hand in front of my face, it's too darn dark. My kooky over-imaginative brain goes into freak out mode. I conjure up boogey men sneaking up on me and I lie there with my heart going ninety miles an hour, asking Russell, "Did you hear that?" every five seconds. (Russ absolutely disagrees with both of these points. To him, absolute quiet and absolute darkness are bliss. Lucky for him, he can sleep in pretty much any conditions.)
4.) I hate sleeping in hotels. (I'm using the word HATE here.) If it's a super poshy hotel (like the one Sarah Mac also happened to be staying at when we saw her in concert in Denver), I sleep in "just" a long-sleeved tee shirt, pj bottoms, and socks. Everywhere else I sleep in everything I brought with me, like I'm out camping out on the snowy ground in Antarctica - clothes, coat, hat, and shoes. During a stay one time at a dumpy Red Roof Inn in Louisiana (dumpy being a kind word), I cranked up the air conditioner and actually slept in mittens and a ski mask...straight as a board on my back, not moving. (Imagine rolling over and seeing that. Oh, yeah, baby. Sexy with a capital MEEEE-ow.) My goal was to not have one milimeter of my skin touching anything on that bed. It's true, that "48 Hours" special on what can be found under the microscope on (supposedly clean) hotel beds was not a good show for me to watch. I was "quirky" about hotels before that. After that, well...let's just say I shot up the Freak-o-Meter a few levels.
5.) Invariably when we travel, at some point in the drive, I will become very thirsty. "Dying of thirst!" I think is the exact phrase Russ says I shout out - frenzied, like I'm lost in the desert. We always stop at the nearest convenience station, where Russ proceeds to go in (patient man that he is) to purchase a bottle of Coke for me. He hands it over, and I hold it in my lap. Usually never even twisting off the cap to take a single swig. Russell calls it my "security Coke". Now when we gas up before a trip, I go in and buy my Coke, prior to starting down the road. (Marriage Saver Tip #107.) It rides beside me in my cup holder, my faithful Fizzy Friend, the whole drive to our destination. Occasionally I reach over and rest my hand on it. Ah. Nice and refreshing.
6.) I am a thirty-five year old Pillowcase-Sniffer. (Oh yes, indeedy, you read that right.) To go to sleep, I sniff a pillow. When I was an infant, it was a blanket. When I was a toddler, it was a stuffed animal named "Petey". When Petey started to disintegrate, it was a Petey tail. After Petey, it was a nightgown. After the nightgown, it was a pillowcase. To this day, twenty years later, it is still the same pillowcase. Much to my horror (and to my husband's delight), it is rapidly becoming more and more fragile and full of holes. With each washing, it is turning into pillowcase vapor. Soon it will blow away in the breeze of the fan...and I will never sleep again.
Alrighty then. Reading over this, I realize I am not so much "quirky" as just downright weird. That fact is compounded by the fact that Six More Weird Things About Me are currently popping to mind bam-bam-bam, in Lightning Round fashion. ...O-well. What can you do?
I tag Sarah, Kristen, Val, Annie, Kathy, and Travis and/or Emily. I would tag my mom, because whoo, she'd have some doozies! But alas, she doesn't have a blog, so I can't. But everybody, come on, join in. Just list 'em out in the comments section. Yay, it'll be fun!! ...Okay. I dare 'ya. (That always works, right? In middle school.)