Monday, October 27, 2008

Tagged

I'm finally back from three days of awesome in Ohio, a trip you can expect to hear more about, including the delirium that follows 14 hours in the car and the demise of approximately eight generations of Sour Patch Kids. After sifting through a weekend's worth of emails and comments, I learned that the lovely Mojito had tagged me in a meme, which normally I don't do, mainly because I get distracted by shiny things in the kitchen drawers ("I own poultry shears?!") and forget. Not today. Two of the other bloggers she tagged are from Minneapolis--the city that provided me with The Replacements, Target, and people who wear Ugg boots for practical purposes--which is a good enough trio of reasons for me to share Seven Random Facts About Myself.

1) I have a weakness for blue eyes. This bodes well for Hugh Laurie, The New Boyfriend, and anyone with access to Freshlook contact lenses.

2) I don't recall the last time I was the one who ended a relationship. I'm riding a fifteen year Dumpee streak, dating back to the 8th grade when my then-boyfriend Justin decided to kill our two week courtship (which included perks like unselfishly sharing my scoop of mashed potatoes, holding hands on the way to Civics class and periodically making out behind the dumpster) during WJLS's All Request show. "The Big Dawg In Country" spent every Saturday night letting callers make cheesetastic song dedications, which basically meant three straight hours of Garth Brooks' "Shameless" being played for girls who all spelled Christy a different way.

Anyway, Justin decided that we weren't right for each other and he told me using 34,00 watts and a Tracy Byrd song. He selected "Walking to Jerusalem" as his Eff Yew, which didn't make sense in any context since he was a brooding atheist and because lines like "hangin' out with that Christian Dior crowd" didn't exactly apply to our school, which offered more than one meat packing class and hosted homecoming parades that involved tractors covered with glitter. I recently heard that he's now an insurance salesman who--ironically--doesn't have health insurance, meaning that his family's maladies are funded by putting donation jars in some of our hometown's finer bait shops.

3) When I was in the 5th grade, I almost choked to death on a piece of Ramada Inn roast beef during a county-wide banquet for gifted children. Apparently I thought I could completely digest gristle bits using nothing but my INCREDIBLY GIFTED mind.

I could not.

Shortly after attempting to swallow an entire undercooked cow, I turned blue and began helplessly flapping my gravy-covered cloth napkin around until I caught the attention of a large woman who was chaperoning the dinner mainly to keep an eye on her own daughter whose name was frequently heard on WJLS. She raced to my red vinyl seat, yanked me up and gave me her own violent interpretation of the Heimlich maneuver which both saved my life and launched the beef out of my mouth with enough force to send it to the other side of the room where it landed with a satisfying wet sound at the feet of local newscaster George Strange. Mr. Strange was concerned enough to interview me after the incident but my chance to be the lead story on that night's newscast was scrapped after I told him that my father had always called him Strange George.

4) One of my best friends from college just got married which wrecked my plans for the next decade or so. No, not because I was romantically interested in him or anything, even though he was the kind of guy who would find you passed out on the Alpha Sig beach volleyball court and instead of drawing a dick on your head in Sharpie would carry you to your room, tuck you in, and draw a dick on your head in lipstick because that would be easier to wipe off. Anyway, ten years ago we promised each other that if we were still single when we turned 30, we'd move to an island and live together with nothing but a television and a monkey butler. We were serious enough about this to write the proposed name of said island in concrete on the college campus, but never got to the practical parts of the plan, like how we'd get cable or whether or not we'd agree to eat the monkey if we couldn't find other food. Anyway, I'm just a handful of exits away from Thirty and now officially have no plans since he was selfish enough to find eternal love and shit.

5) I distinctly remember one summer morning when I put on my Greenbrier Tennis Camp t-shirt, a pair of Duckhead khaki shorts, and a dickey and looked at my recently permed reflection and solemnly wished that I would look like that forever.

The fact that I don't is as good an argument for a benevolent God as I've ever heard.
Link
6) My life includes a six month period when I wore a dickey under my t-shirts. Read that sentence again.

7) The three things I am afraid of (other than dickies) are porcelain dolls, music boxes, and seeing a mirror in a dark room. The first two are obviously just creepy and evil, but the mirror thing is a remnant from elementary school when some of the sixth grade girls would find a way to trick the younger kids into going into the bathroom every day after lunch so they could turn the lights out and tell us that a ghost called Bloody Mary was going to show up in the mirror and yank us through to the other side. I'm not sure why I fell for this EVERY DAMN DAY but I'm sure they told me that Huey Lewis was in there or somebody just shat out a My Little Pony or something equally plausible.

The setup--that there was restless demon who would reach out of the darkness and pull us to the other side--was ridiculous. The only thing beyond that wall was the janitor's closet, which meant sometimes you'd smell cigarette smoke seeping through the mirror's edges or hear the crackle of a walkie talkie followed by a weary-sounding "Shit" as he undoubtedly opened another can of sawdust to sprinkle on a puddle of partially-digested corn niblets in the hallway. Knowing that didn't make it less terrifying when the lights went out and we'd all scramble for the door. Obviously, Bloody Mary was a no-show but Sabrina the Sixth Grade Repeater got detention for the rest of the year.

I've never stopped hoping that somebody dumped her on the radio too.

19 comments:

M said...

how could 3 days in ohio be anything BUT awesome?

indy said...

So, I looked up "dickie" and that was a none-too-pleasant experience for me...so, I spelled it right and it appears that "dickeys" are faux turtlenecks...

Tell me that I just didn't look hard enough...

Dexter Colt said...

I spent 28 years in Ohio, and about 3 days of it were awesome. Alright, I'm lying...it was 28 years of kick ass awesome.

And, who hasn't nearly choked to death on roast beef? I mean the surgeon general should put a warning on it.

Eebs said...

My mom still makes fun of me for the Bloody Mary thing. I was so fucking good at scaring the living crap out of myself.

christina said...

i live in duluth. i only brought you low and bob dylan and the former voice over artist don lafontaine, comedian maria bamford and gena lee nolan.

JB said...

The Bloody Mary craze made its way to our small town, too. It didn't help that we were a catholic school and shared our playground area with the church next door. Made most kids even jumpier about demons, so I (being the atheist even that young) was usually the one to force them into trying to call Bloody Mary. I was scared of mock turtle necks, though (seriously, they felt like warm, itchy hands trying to choke the life out of me.) I don't think we would have been friends.

Perfectly Shelly said...

Okay, today, you are my blog crush (again.

I realize he may only be 18, but I've got a blue eyed boy (man??) that we just took like 300+ pictures of--check him out on my blog ---oh don't worry, there's only 5 or 6 of the 300+ pictues. Blogger, for some reason, objected to the space that over 300 photos took up. I don't know why? He's really gorgeous (even if he is my son).

AND the other reason I love you is because at age 42 (me, not you), being married for 21 years with two teenage boys, TO THIS DAY, I don't look into mirrors in dark rooms. Damn Bloody Mary. DAMN HER!! It's especially terrifying after Drunken Wednesday Ghost Hunters night. Yeah, even mirrors in semi dark rooms have me looking away.

TC said...

I haven't heard (either mentioned or actually heard, heard) the song "Walking to Jerusalem" in too many years to count. Wow.

sarah said...

ahhh! i'm 27 and to this day *still* avoid mirrors in darkened rooms for the exact same reason. it's absurd i realize, but it still spooks!

Andy said...

I have that "I'll marry you if we're 40 and single" deal with many women. I'm screwed if they are all still single then.
And dickies? C'mon.

X-Country2 said...

Dickies were one of the most brillant inventions ever. Don't let anyone tell you different.

J-Money said...

m: Good point. Ohio was the birthplace of Wendy's...what's not to love?

indy: Nope. That's it. The fake turtlenecks popularized by losers like me and also Cousin Eddie on Christmas Vacation. Awesome.

dexter colt: I think we should both write our respective congressmen.

eebs: Bloody Mary was a horrible, horrible idea. Tell your mom I've got your back.

christina: Facepalm. As your loyal blog reader, I totally knew that.

jb: And here I've been telling myself that we would've been best friends. Sigh.

perfectly shelly: Your son? Hot. Please tell him to call me if he's still single when I turn 30. Wait...what?

tc: Welcome to my terrifying, Tracy Byrd filled memories.

sarah: If by "absurd" you mean "perfectly rational", then yes, it's absurd.

andy: Yeah. I can't do anything but hang my head.

x-country2: Why didn't I know you when I was in 6th grade and in the midst of my dickey phase?

punchlinewalking said...

Let me get this straight- dickies are not cool? Even under denim button downs? That's crazy talk.

emily said...

I flapped my hands so much reading this entry a passerby might have reasonably assumed I had certain chromosomal deficiencies.

1) I also wore a dickey. It was part of the marching band uniform. There were epaulets involved.

2) A cousin gave my mother a Christmas music box with a porcelain kitty doll looming out of the top, which would sway to the music. One night, I was up late in our den watching a horror movie marathon (as you do, at Christmastime), when the music box suddenly started playing at its fastest speed, blank eyed kitty jerking around spasmodically. Yeah. I share your phobia.

3) Bloody Mary

Heather said...

I Can't stop laughing. This is a meme done right!

Joy @ Big Time Fancy said...

Holy hell, I am reasonably certain that the word "dickey" is one of the funniest of all time.

Your Ill-fitting Overcoat said...

I have the same fear of dark mirrors and for the same reason. I'm kind of even afraid of the vodka-based tomato juice beverage. Terrifying.

Also, thank you for teaching me the word 'dickey'.

jax said...

i too was a dicky afficinado.
fear not good women, crocs and their downfall should offset this.

give me a holla on my blog.
your shit is pretty funny!

Heinous said...

A dickey? I don't know if I can look at you the same again.