Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Tagged - 16 Random Things

I was tagged by long-winded Nicholas. There's no use pretending I'm too good for putting my business in the streets; I love these things.


I am obsessed with genitalia. HEAR ME OUT!!! Not in a sexual way, just in a scientific way. I have countless books on sex determination/behavior, ambiguous genitalia, and hermaphrodism and wonder with each person I meet if they were born with indeterminate sex organs. I mean, it's pretty common (one child in 100), so someone I know has to be on Jamie Lee Curtis status. I'd love to talk with them about it. I guess it's because I grew up the only girl and became acutely aware of how differently boys and girls are socialized. Plus, I've never bought that this random assignation of sex could really explain the huge gulf between men and women. I suppose I'm more of a nuturist. If I could redo my life, I'd change my major and travel the globe doing field research and writing about genitals. (Way to start with a bang, eh?)


I love eating. It really has to be life's greatest pleasure. The variety of tastes and textures and flavor combinations available to the palette is mind boggling. I wish to taste as much stuff as I can before I die of diabetes and stroke and heart attack. (Bugs do not count, even if some of them do taste like Tutti-Frutti.) For this reason, I really want to try human meat. I don't know how this will happen, but if some shifty, clearly terrible human being dies or some willing participant donates his or her body to culinary science, I'll be there with fork and barbecue sauce in hand. Don't judge me.


I've been told this a number of times, have mentioned it a number of times, and plan on executing it in tattoo form in a few months, but I really feel a kinship with robots. One of my favorite books is I, Robot by Isaac Asimov. Sometimes, I just don't feel the things I'm supposed to feel. If only therapy were cheap enough for me to afford it.


I have shitloads of gray hair (and a filthy mouth to match)!


I hate Oscar-bait and sad movies in general. My mom was reading through the Oscar (Golden Globe?) picks and asked why we hadn't seen any. I responded, “I hate crying.” Dude, I go to the movies to escape from sad-ass life through kung fu and car chases and shit-talking heroes. Screw that sappy, glaringly realistic, introspective shit.


I once had an amazingly country accent. I discovered this while viewing a dusty VHS tape of myself at eight or six or something. I wonder what happened to it? Did other kids shame me into getting rid of it? It sucks because I spoke to some Alabama fam over Christmas and she said, “Querida, you sound like such a white girl.” Great.


Up until the age of 25 or so, my dreams were exceedingly gory and disturbing. I mean, blood and dismembered body parts all over the place. I was constantly being chased by cult leaders and vampires and large monkeys and all manner of creepy personages. True, I watched a lot of horror as a kid, but wtf? I finally started “dreaming” like a real person in my late-twenties. It's so boring now.


My memory is terrible, like scary, early-onset Alzheimer's terrible. I once walked past my aunt on the street, looked her dead in the face and kept walking, not because I wanted to avoid her but because she simply didn't register. I can't recall simple details like what I wore or ate yesterday or anything before the age of, say, eight. I honestly think I've suffered some brain damage somewhere.


People who know me know this, but I really wasn't allowed to play outside when I was a kid. It was me and my Legos® and my silver portable radio and my brown plastic turntable. Sometimes I could sit on the porch and read, but that's about it. No wonder my social skills are horrible.


People tend to think I'm bitchy and mean, and while it doesn't really bother me, it is inaccurate. I'm just really reserved and easily annoyed. Actually, I'm quite pleasant and dislike conflict.


Consequently, I find it really hard to hate people. I can conjure up some dislike, but for the most part it always dissipates in a few weeks if not a few days. It's not that I don't find some people hateable, but I just don't have the time, attention span, or energy. Go over there ----> with that.


I can be objective about great cinema, but really, what's messing with Killer Klowns From Outer Space?


I get Aretha and all, but Patti LaBelle is way iller. Period.


I've always wondered what it would be like to be a dominatrix. A less uptight me would've found out by now.


There are exactly five varieties of empty beer and one half bottle of vodka in my bedroom as I type. I am not an alcoholic. Seriously. I've had that bottle of vodka since November of 2005.


Finally, uhhh... let's see...yes! About two years ago I was bald, like dude bald, and I wanted so badly to rock the ill Bobby Brown side part, but I was too chicken. Oh well.

This goes out to a few folks:
Monica - Because she loves these things. Right? Plus, I wanna know something I don't know.
My Brother Jimmy - Cause he types fast, and I wanna learn something about him.
Daniel - Because he's ridiculously interesting.
The Bakers (this counts as three)- Cause we family.
Rachel - Because I we haven't really communicated since she went back to Italy.
Danny - Because we fam, but I I don't know this grown version of him with the tattoos and rhapsodizing on women.
Chanda - Because you're awesome.
Ben - Because he "rocks the sweet daddy long fox minks." Not really, but he would.
Natalie - Because it'll be good to hear what's behind the "camera face."
Joanna - Because I haven't seen her in years, but think she's fabulous.
Eugene - Because he has great taste in movies.
Quentin - Because I want to know what my brother's up to. (You don't check your page at all, do you?)
Lakeiya - Because I missed you at Christmas, but you're hella busy, aren't you.
Andrew - Because you're hilarious and would undoubtedly make my day.

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