Seven Facts

This is a meme that I found on Storm Moon Knits. While I was not officially tagged, she mentioned that she would be interested to see what I would come up with and , after some thought, I was a bit curious to see what I would come up with as well. I find myself living in sort of a dichotomy between feeling that it's terribly difficult to think of 7 facts that would be of any interest and feeling that it's terribly difficult to choose a mere seven things from the vast pool of facts about me. So, here it goes.

1. The first profession I ever wanted was to be a hooker. Oddly enough, one of my sisters wanted to be a hooker when she was younger, too. I don't really know what her reasoning was, but I know that I had the impression that hookers were fabulous and had rockin' clothes and went to fabulous parties and all the guys loved them. They were also very independent and didn't take too much shit from anyone. Now, looking back, I think my most of my career aspirations came from watching a few too many Jamie Lee Curtice movies at too young of an age. Things swiftly changed when we got cable and I saw a crack whore giving a guy a bj in a filthy alley while watching a documentary on something....probably crack whores. I can still recall my feeling of ,"Whaaa...??Uh....hold up...". That totally changed the course of my life. My sister didn't become a hooker either.

2. I don't have a complete brain. I was born with a brain defect that didn't really show itself until I was 12 or 13. I had to have 3 surgeries in total and was in the hospital for many months. They had to cut off part of my brain that had dried up. I should be a lot taller, and I like to think that I'd be a freaking genius if I had a full brain. In reality though, I'm only missing pieces that have to do with my balance and coordination. If you ever see me walking around like a drunk, it probably has more to do with my brain sending out creepy commands rather than actual liquor consumption. Besides, I generally stay sitting down when I'm drunk.

3. Speaking of my brain....I blew the back of my head open once at a WWE (at the time it was still WWF) event at the Patriot Center (which doesn't exist anymore). I left the hospital after either my first or second surgery and went to the event, got all spazzy and excited because I LOVE wrestling, ruptured all my stitches and had a hole in the back of my head. Yay, fun! I also once blew out the back of my head with a really bad sneeze. I like the wrestling story better, and I think the WWE should give me some sort of fan honors. That event may or may not have been the same one where a wrestler threw a quarter into my sisters eye, leaving a scar. That's the same sister who also wanted to be a hooker.

4. Due to the various back-of-head-blowing-out incidents, I had to have my head patched together with cadaver pieces. Yummy!

5. I was born a freakishly huge baby. My mom thinks I was born a month late, but my sister (the one with the quarter in the eye and hooker aspirations) was kind enough to regale me with the story of catching my parents in the act of conceiving me, being scarred by it, and knowing for a fact that I was born right on time. Anyhow, (yuck) I was so gigantic that I couldn't wear any of the baby things. I had to have big kid diapers and all that. I also pushed myself up on my hands in a crawling like position and cried big tears. They used me as some sort of freak-show exhibition for a few days before releasing me. One of my nephews was pretty freakishly large, too, but he didn't do too much of the weird stuff. He did projectile vomit pretty continuously for the first few years of his life though........perhaps we're some sort of demon breed. P.S. I almost never throw up.

6. I am an incredibly awkward sleeper. This has just been the way it is from the time I was born (see notes of freakishness in #5). When I was an infant, I would sleep flat on my back with my arms and legs spread out around me. I also spread my fingers and toes apart while I slept. My mothers theory is that I was rebelling against being crushed in her womb, seeing as how I was so monstrously huge. I think I must have spread out a bit in her womb as well, because I destroyed her abdominal wall. For those of you who have met my mom and witnessed her sort of apple-ish shape, a lot of that has to do with me. Back to the sleeping....there have been numerous times where I've woken up turned completely around in my bed, or even with my legs vertically pressed up against a wall. I also frequently flail about in my sleep and have mildly violent dreams. I always had to sleep away from other people when I had slumber parties and whatnot because sometimes I would punch people while I was sleeping. That mostly went away, but within the past 8 years I have broken an ex boyfriend ribs in my sleep, and thought I broke my hand while slamming it against a trunk. I also tend to build a nest around myself while I sleep and there are many pictures of me wrapped inside a huge piles of pillows/blankets. The bright side of this sleep issue is that I always get to have my own bed when we go out of town. Sometimes I also make siren noises in my sleep. That's particularly strange because I become aware of the fact that I'm doing it while I'm still asleep. Once someone wakes me up I usually immediately apologize for making the noises because I know that's why they woke me up.

7. Hmmmm.....last one. My first kiss was Billy Warlock from Baywatch. I met him at a Days of Our Lives convention downtown that my sister (hooker wannabe) had won tickets for on the radio. He was hot, but like 4 feet tall. At the time though I was much shorter so it didn't phase me.

Okay, so that was fun. I'm sticking with the plan of not tagging anyone else. It's fitting since I wasn't officially tagged at all myself. So tomorrow I get to go do step 1 of not having all my teeth fall out in a giant clump. (damn, that would have been a good fact, too. We've been speaking of it recently due to obvious reasons. I somehow decided when I was kid that when it was time for my teeth to fall out, they would all just spontaneously drop from my mouth. I lived in fear of not being able to catch them all and losing out o the tooth fairy loot. To remedy the situation, I would only wear outfits that had a giant pocket on the front of them, like Osh-Kosh overalls did. That way, when the fateful teeth-losing day came, I could just open my mouth over my pocket and they'd all be safe.) I HATE, HATE, HATE going to the dentist. I had to have all the literature about tomorrows proceeding removed from my reach because I kept looking at it and freaking out. I'm totally not liking any of it, and am half wanting to just say screw it and let all my teeth go. I also was smart enough to not take off work or anything so I have to be at the shop 2 hours after my procedure starts. So, if anyone wants a good laugh during the day you can call me at the store and listen to me try to drool out words like some sort of Quasimoto mouth. I don't know if I spelled that right, but it seems phonetically sound. Okay, I gotta run. I want to finish the heel turn on my mom's sock before I go to sleep.