First, I’d Like to Thank…
Now this is the way to start off a Monday morning! My friend, Angie Mizzell, received the Versatile Blogger Award – for good reason – and has passed on a nomination to me. And I never win anything – ever!
What this award really means is that I am supposed to share with you seven things about myself. My foggy, post-Easter brain may have a hard time coming up with seven things, but here it goes:
1. Since we celebrated Easter yesterday, I thought I would start with the fact that when I was young I was once owned by a resurrected cat. (Side note: If you know anything about cats, you know you don’t own cats. Cats own you.) Her name was Spook. She was a long-haired calico cat with a Hitler moustache. Her favorite pastimes were sitting in the crook of a tree like a koala bear and reproducing. (Not at the same time.) Since her mother, Angel, had already populated our portion of Anderson County with kittens, we decided to get Spook “fixed.” Spook, living up to her name, managed to pull off an escape from the vet’s office shortly after surgery. We searched and searched for her, to no avail. My heart was broken. Not long after that, my mother was driving along the highway the ran between the vet’s office and our house. She spotted the body of a cat that had been hit in the middle of the road. It looked like Spook. Remember – she was a unique looking long-haired calico with a Hitler moustache. Not as common as, say, a yellow tabby. She stopped the car on the side of the road, walked to a nearby house to borrow a trash bag and a shovel, scooped the cat off the road, and brought it home for a proper burial. (Another note: My mother is not a fan of cats. She is a fan of her kids, however, which gives you an indication of how much my heart had been broken.) A week or so after the burial, I went be-bopping out our back door, probably to shoot baskets or something, and there in our garage was Spook, in the flesh (um, fur), meowing and hungry. I guess she worked up an appetite getting resurrected and all.
2. I’ve been kissed (on the cheek) by Michael Damien.
3. When I was in college, I rode on the shoulders of a unicyclist – while he was riding his unicycle. By the way, it part of a show in the middle of the mall food court crowded with amused onlookers. Let me just say I was set up in a big way by friends. We’ll talk about payback another time!
4. On a business trip to Miami, my friend and I went to Bayside Market one night. While she was buying a snack, I stepped over to the railing overlooking the water. I was approached by a handsome young Latino in a sailor’s uniform who had just stepped off a boat. He came to me and in a low, seductive voice whispered sweet nothings in my ear and invited me on a romantic moonlight boat ride. Okay, okay. So he was speaking in Spanish and I didn’t understand a word. For all I know, he could have been telling me that I had broccoli stuck in my teeth or toilet paper stuck to my shoe. But it sounded romantic and he was quite handsome, so that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!
5. In all my years of driving before moving to Charleston, I’ve had just two incidents of being pulled over. Both times were for speeding. (In my defense, one of those was in an honest-to-God speed trap.) Since moving to Charleston less than three years ago, I’ve already been pulled over twice. Both times for car lights that were out – once a headlight, once a brake light. They don’t play down here!
6. Speaking of the police, I once had my own five man police escort – from the mall management office where I worked, through the crowds gathered to buy movie tickets at the theater outside the office door, to my car parked in the mall parking lot. There was one on either side, one right in front of me, one behind me, and one leading the way with his hand on his holster yelling, “Stand back! Clear the way! Coming through!” as they hustled me through the middle of the crowd. What can I say? It had been a long, slow, uneventful night for the off-duty officers who worked mall security. They were bored, and nothing thrilled them more than embarrassing me. It was my once in a lifetime shot at seeing what it’s like to be a VIP!
7. When I was a child, I wanted to be just like Laura Ingalls Wilder. I wanted to live a wild and exciting life and then write all about it. I was so disappointed as a child that I never lived through a wildfire or a blizzard or and infestation of grasshoppers. I never played ball with an inflated pig’s bladder or rode in a horse-drawn wagon to my grandmother’s house. I did have a childhood “enemy” whose name wasn’t Nellie, but Alison (with one “l”). But that was okay, because the actress who played Nellie was an Alison (with one “l”). And my “Nellie’s” dad was a store owner just like the real Nellie’s, so it was pretty close. But that was the only common denominator I could find.
I kept waiting and waiting for something exciting to happen to me that was worth writing about. Maybe one day I’ll find something… ;)
Now, in the spirit of the Versatile Blogger Award, I would like to pass this along. For starters, I’d love to see what Cathy and Terri, two of my friends and top commenters, have to share. And you, too! What’s something people might not know about you? Please leave a comment and share!