Today I tell all.
Or at least a few things you may not have known about me. It’s confession time on The Fringe.
I thought I would take this opportunity to get to know you a little bit better, but it’s hard for me to entice you into spilling your guts in the comments, so I’m going to go first.
After this, you should feel sufficiently guilted into leaving a comment and telling me all sorts of fun facts about you.
Even all you blog stalkers. Don’t pretend; you know who you are.
A Few Fun Facts
I eat popcorn. Lots of it. Sometimes with butter, sometimes with salt, but lately, I’ve taken to eating it with Parmesan/Romano cheese sprinkled on top. I love popcorn and think it should be a food group.
My son thinks I have ADD. He told me. Shouldn’t the psycho-analyzing go mother-to-son and not the other way around?
I get locked out of my online banking account often, at least once a month. My bank makes me feel like a thief, dressed in all black, sitting behind my computer screen. I am innocent, I tell you. Innocent!
I look guilty. A lot. Every time I drive past a police officer. I don’t know why, but my face screams guilt. Perhaps it’s the online banking thing or the time I may have stolen a cactus. Either way, I need to let go of the guilt.
I am bad with dates. I forget my own anniversary. It’s a crying shame. Good thing FringeMan has a calendar in his head. He remembers the date of the first time he went potty in the toilet like a big boy. Kidding. But, he may.
I wore Wonder Woman Underoos when I was a kid. Any other Underoo fans out there?
I cough all the time. When I’m in public, people sometimes look at me like I have the Bubonic Plague. My kids say they follow the cough. That’s how they find me stores. I’m ok, really.
Once, for a college class, I read a whole book written in Spanish. Then I wrote a report, in Spanish, on said book. I didn’t understand one word. I passed. God had mercy on me.
I was stuck in an elevator in the Empire State Building once. In the summer. With lots of other people. It wasn’t fun.
While in the Statue of Liberty, a stranger spit a big hock-a-loogie in my hair.
I watched as a man set fire to a street. Yes, the entire street. You can read that here.
For much of my life, walking was synonymous with falling.
I wore braces for four very long years and I didn’t even have any fun colored wires.
I once had to call poison control because I ingested large amounts of liquid lilac air freshener. Dying with dignity would have been easier than that phone call. Don’t even ask how I ate it. That happened in my early days of cooking.
I leave the most incredibly stupid voice mail messages known to man.
I still have a flip-phone. Flip being the operative word. It ages me.
It’s Your Turn – Go Ahead, Confess
For reals. It is your turn. Don’t leave me hanging. Start spilling your guts.