4. When I'm having a bad day and want comfort food, I go home and curl up with a big bowl of frozen peas that have been heated in the microwave. All I put on them is a) salt, and b) pepper. This stems from a childhood misinterpretation of what chickpeas were, when the characters in a book I loved ate "fresh hot buttered chickpeas."
3. My family was very, very poor when I was younger. As a consequence, I think that butter tastes horrible, because we always got a brick of government butter in our "please don't starve to death" box. Margarine, on the other hand, is the taste of luxury. I had a bad margarine habit for a while after getting my first job, and bought a tub every time I went to the store.
2. I am very superstitious, and very picky about my superstitions. I count crows, pick up pennies, and occasionally look for auguries in bags of M&Ms. I do not, however, freak out when I see a funeral procession, or insist on touching my collar and asking magpies how their wives are. This helps me strike a good balance. Just never get between me and a street penny.
1. I have a paralyzing phobia of pudding, which extends to all "pudding-type" substances, including custard and overly-warm milkshakes. Suddenly biting into an unexpected cream filling has been known to make me throw up on the spot. Luckily, this does not extend to the unnatural white goo inside Twinkies.
So that's five things you may or may not know about me. What do you think I may or may not know about you?
December 28 2010, 13:45:17 UTC 6 years ago
Ugh. "Country music" is neither country nor music.
My family used to get margarine all the time. When I got older, I tried real butter. I love butter.
I love canned spinach with salt. That's my favorite veggie.
December 29 2010, 20:44:45 UTC 6 years ago
December 30 2010, 01:10:56 UTC 6 years ago
March 15 2011, 19:28:37 UTC 6 years ago
March 16 2011, 01:22:31 UTC 6 years ago
Like today, a song I haven't heard in months or longer (the old 80's song "Too Shy") just randomly popped up into our consciousness and started putting itself on continuous loop. No apparent trigger, it's like the song just said, "Hello there, I got lost wandering through your subconscious and ended up here somehow, so I'll just sit down and play myself over and over again until you want to gouge your eyeballs out with a rusty spoon, or until I figure out how to get home."
It eventually stopped, thank Gods, but now that it happened, it could come back to visit at any time. So I'm trying hard not to think about it.