Day 1 – Ten Random Facts About Yourself

Day 1 - Ten Random Facts About Yourself 1-20-13

Ten Random Facts About Yourself

  1. I refuse to kill spiders.  It’s actually due to the book Phantom by Susan Kay.  There’s a part where The Phantom is really upset because Christine wants him to kill a spider, and he goes on a tangent about how people hate spiders and kill them just because they’re ugly.  *sniffles*  I love The Phantom, so…I can’t kill spiders, now.  MSN redrose
  2. Snowboarding is my sport of choice, though I haven’t had the money to go in about five years.  Last time I went, I was starting on rails, which was incredibly fun!
  3. Christmas is my favorite time of year.  I love winter, snow, Christmas trees, and everything else that goes along with the season.  Don’t be surprised if you catch me with my nose buried in the grocery store tree lot or the bin of cinnamon pinecones.
  4. I always have a quirky stuffed animal in the rear window of my car.  Right now, it’s a green dragon.  Before that, it was a six-foot long orange snake with flames.  That one scared a few drive-thru girls by accident…  Skype Old giggle
  5. At my last job, I designed an eighteen-page schematic for opening and closing procedures, unbidden.  It was for my own personal use, but my manager caught wind of it and asked to see it, once.  He was blown away and wanted me to send it to corporate.
  6. Cemeteries don’t bother me; in fact, I used to go to one after work at 10:00 P.M. to unwind and relax.  I’d roll the windows down in my car and turn my music up, then walk around for awhile.
  7. I have a purple guard monkey named Sparkles who’s been hanging on my doorknob for a decade.  I’m not even into monkeys, but he was just so fluffy and cute, I couldn’t resist.  He’s survived many a stuffed animal cut in my bedroom and is the only one who’s always out, no matter what.  Rainbow
  8. Cute notebooks are my weakness and my curse…  I can’t resist buying them, but once I do, they’re so pretty and perfect, I can’t bear to ruin them with my messy handwriting.  Besides, I find it much easier and faster to type than to write…a piece of logic which, thus far, hasn’t curbed my notebook-hoarding ways.
  9. I’m OCD, though much less than I used to be.  A few years ago, my rituals and tweaks robbed me of a lot of sleep and peace.  Now, it’s more something that I notice is there, but for the most part, choose whether or not to “scratch the itch”, as my Daddy would say.
  10. So You Think You Can Dance is the only TV show I watch, even though I can’t dance a lick.  I love seeing the dancers’ personalities unfold during the course of the season, and the excitement of wondering what the choreographers will come up with, next.

Here’s Daddy’s ten!  Roll2

Ten Random Things About Me

  1. For a long time, without trying, I scored the MAXIMUM amount of points under Extroversion on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. I haven’t dropped much.
  2. I am a Star Wars nut, but not in the typical sense. I’ve seen the movies several times, and I do like them, but my interest lies more in the Extended Universe. Mostly the books in the years following the Battle of Yavin, all the way past the New Jedi Order and I’m currently working my way (slowly) through the Legacy of the Force series. (Jacen, not Cade, for those who actually understand what that means…) Also, I have played Star Wars Saga Edition tabletop rpg quite a lot as well.
  3. Many consider me to be a redneck. I don’t wholeheartedly agree because although I do like guns, and horses, and am from Texas, and drive a truck, and love country music, and love my jeans and camo, and my favorite hat says PBR (Professional Bull Riding)… I was born in AUSTIN (Awwstin), which is about as liberal as Texas gets. I’ve never lived anywhere near the country, and I’m a city boy through and through. I’m also missing some distinct “redneck” qualities. I prefer chiggin over beef, not a big fan of beer, never been hunting (though I want to) and I’ve lost my thick southern drawl. Those are all stereotypes, I know, but… Yeah.
  4. I love my hair. I am proud of how long and thick it gets, and maintain I am a redhead. In truth I don’t actually know. I look in the mirror and see a kinda mostly brown/maybe a little blondish with a reddish tinge. But I talk to other people and they say I’m DEFINITELY a redhead. Explanations thus far as to why I can’t tell include lighting and that I’m a bit color-blind.
  5. My all-time favorite food is TEX-MEX. In particular cheese enchiladas, though I always get a taco with it. Runners up include mac and cheese and frito pie, but Tex-Mex still wins.
  6. On that subject, I am likely going to die young from the amount of cheese I consume. I flipping LOVE cheese, and I’m sure I’m corroding my arteries with plaque as we speak. (Crams another queso covered chip in my face.)
  7. When I was in my late teens/early youth I was incredibly shrimpy. I’m short to start with, and I was SKINNY. I didn’t like it, and felt very weak and wimpy. So I started working out, doing Martial Arts, and took Fencing. One of the best feelings of my life was hearing a friend turn to a guy who was pestering me (in a playful fashion) and say, “dude, you don’t want to mess with him. He may look short and look small, but he will kick your ASS.” *Does a wiggly happy dance of awesome*
  8. Not actually related to the above (well, maybe a little…), but for most of my life I have had some pretty serious anger issues. It wasn’t the only reason, but one big reason my parents decided to homeschool my sister and I was because I was that bad. I was coming home EVERY day with slips and notes on how bad my behavior was. Calls to Mom/Dad’s work were very common. My sister, who attended the same school in a higher grade, had standing permission to get out of line and check on me anytime they passed my class. My GRANDMOTHER had come in to sit and observe my behavior on more than one occasion. (This was a big deal.) I’ve mellowed now, but oh the stories I have from kindergarten and first grade… (Yeah, kindergarten I bit a kid cuz he took my seat. Tore flesh out. That bad.)
  9. I’m a dreamer. I have daydreams about all kinds of stuff, most of it ludicrously impossible. I’ve pictured myself flying high above the clouds in a futuristic aircraft, engaging and warning off enemy or unfriendly pilots threatening our land, being responsible for not only myself, but also anyone in my plane (if I’ve got a buddy behind me) and my wingman. I’ve kicked back and thought about what I’d do if I won a few hundred million dollars (this is a favorite). I’ve imagined and worked through the gifts I’d give to people, the security I could give them, the possibilities it would open, the stuff I would buy… (at least three separate trucks for different functions, and a couple sports cars). Hell, I’ve even worked out via Disney rules how to become a free genie and still free the other genie. Yeah, I’m a dreamer.
  10. My #1 most amazing quality is my capacity to love. Despite my Martial Arts training and penchant for weapons, I really am a lover, not a fighter. I am capable of loving hard and deep, and establishing a bond with someone quickly. Furthermore, it is not a weak or shallow bond. If (or when) something happens, that bond doesn’t just evaporate and disappear, it sticks and that person always has a piece of me. Because of this I ought to be more careful who I share myself with, and I have learned the hard way that it’s not safe to wear my heart so openly, but… That’s how I am.

The Sledding Hill

I remember being woken up in the middle of the night, when it snowed.  Everything outside my window would be blue and shimmery.

We’d stumble downstairs and dig into the coat closet underneath the stairs, rummaging around for the basket full of snow clothes.  Snoopy hats and thick gloves that were too big for me…  Several layers of clothes, and hiking boots that were big enough to be my brother’s.  Fuzzy pink earmuffs.  And off we’d go, into the snowy night.

Sometimes it was windy and cold, other times just quiet and still.  Our sleds scraped over the fresh snow behind us.  We’d tied ropes through the front so we could pull them.  Mine was pink and my brother’s was orange.  Snowball, our Samoyed mix dog, would thunder around us, kicking up snow and chasing out sleeping rabbits from under the bushes.

We’d follow dad up the road, past my best friend’s house, and all the way to the main street where we’d fight past our heavy snow clothes and climb onto the wall made of stone and brick.  Then we’d carefully march up and down the steps of the wall, over the big humps of the posts, and on, the frigid air tingling in our noses.  Whoever went first was lucky, because they got to shove off the piles of fresh snow from the fence posts.  Early on, I was so small I had to sit on the posts and spin around to get over them.  When I was older, I could step up onto them, or over them.

Sometimes we could see the stars, but sometimes it was still snowing and there were huge clouds covering everything.  Dad would help us off the wall before we reached the ditch where the cow skeletons were, and we’d start on the long trudge up the sledding hill.  It was all covered in weeds, and even cactus here and there, but it would snow so much, you didn’t really notice.  It took so long to climb up the hill, but when you reached the top, the air was so crisp and you had such a long way to sled down the hill, it was all worth it.

Sometimes I’d be scared, looking straight down that huge hill all the way to the bottom, or be afraid I might slide all the way into the ditch.  But I never did.  Sometimes dad would sit behind me, or push me so I’d go fast.  Sometimes my brother would go with me, and sometimes we would race each other.  Snowball would run along beside us, trying to climb into our sleds on the way down.  We’d laugh and scream and our voices were the only sound in that huge empty field.

It was fun sliding down the hill but took so long and it was so hard climbing all the way back up again.  My boots would slip in the snow and so I would try to walk in dad’s footprints, but they were always too big for me to reach.  But up I’d climb, over and over, until we couldn’t breathe from the cold and our noses were red and our toes were numb.

Then we’d climb back up on the wall and make the trek back home, where Mom would always be waiting for us to tell her how much fun we had sledding, while we drank hot chocolate and tried to warm up.  Then we would finally curl up warm and tight in our beds again and fall asleep, waking up the next morning to a beautiful white world.

Several years later, bulldozers leveled my sledding hill flat and built a school where it should have been.  But every time I drive down that road and look at the wall, I remember walking on it through the snow in the dark, and smile.  I will never forget the sledding hill.