Argh! Someone tagged me for a 7 things about me blog meme, and I can't remember who it was to link back to them, so if you're reading this and it was you, just post in the comments and I'll update with the links.
Seven things that people don't really know about me
1. I always claim to hate my middle name, but I don't. As a matter of fact, if I could figure out a way to ditch the nickname that everyone currently calls me, I would swap it out for my middle name. As it is, I've been called Lynn since 5th grade and my parents still call me by my first name (No, I won't tell you what it is...) My middle name is a boy's name. To be specific, my grandfather's name, and his grandfather's name and his, etc etc until you get back to my first ancestor in the states' surname. He was lynched in Jamaica for being a religious zealot and his sister (who survived by marrying a ship's captain) named her son after her idiot brother. It also happens to be my least favorite cousin's first name and my second least favorite cousin's middle name. However, I think it would be cool to be called Chandler, and I do like it. (Lynn is the second half of my first name, which is one of those annoyingly southern compound names like Betty-Rae, Nina-Fay, and Nancy-Hope. Yes, I really know all those people. No, I won't tell you what the first half of my stupid compound name is.)
2. I am naturally left-handed, but was aversion-trained into being right-handed in kindergarten. As such, I have a really, really hard time with rights and lefts. For years, the only way I could tell right from left is that I have a freckle on my left index finger. After a bad sunburn in college, the freckle went away. Now, in order to clue my brain in, I only wear jewelry on my left hand. I partially reverted to left-handedness after breaking my right arm in a traffic accident and being in a cast for 3 months. I use a mouse left-handed and actually cannot function with a right-handed mouse. (My daughter is left-handed, and so is my husband. I am prepared to KILL anyone who tries to aversion-train Darcy into being right-handed.)
3. I never remember the date of my dad's birthday. I always have to call my mother and ask her. My parents have been divorced for 16 years. My mother always remembers.
4. I hate the feeling of water on my face. Whether it's in the shower, being splashed in a pool, being squirted with a water-gun, or whatever. I can manage it in certain situations where I'm in complete control of the water (such as swimming underwater, although I always want to dry my face off the INSTANT I come up for air) but I'm not the kind of person who can wash my face by cupping water in my hands. It just completely freaks me out. I have no idea why.
5. The first boy I ever kissed was Johnny Rayburn. I was thirteen and we ended up kissing under a pine tree across the street from my house, halfway down the hill. I remember the smell of pine needles and the look of his face in the moonlight. The first girl I ever kissed was Jonni Reynolds. We kissed near a cedar tree, walking back from seeing Thelma and Louis. Something about the symetry there pleases me.
6. Three people in my life have written me poetry. The first was my high school sweetheart, whose poetry was sincere, and sincerely awful... reminiscent of New Kids on the Block lyrics without the catchy backbeat... the third was a girl I loved very much in college, but was possessive, paranoid, and a man-hater, to the point where she didn't like me to have guy friends... the second one, however, touched me the most. I barely knew the guy. His name was Nathan Burbank and he was in one of my Gifted classes with me, despite being two years my senior. Nice guy, kinda quiet. Kinda cute in a - what would later be called - "emo" sort of way. Moody. That he harbored anything for me, I never knew until after he died. His sister Rhonda brought me a packet of letters about a month after he died from a drug-overdose... it was a collection of poetry and sketches he'd done, of and about, me. I still have them.
7. I have a thing about death. I've known entirely too many people who've died, and I don't like - and won't attend - funerals. While I understand the purpose of a funeral and accept that they are helpful to other people, I can't... what ends up happening to me at a funeral is that the emotions are so strong that I can't let go. I end up remembering the funeral much more clearly than I remember the person who died. I know it's supposed to be a show of respect to attend, and I further know and understand that I have massively offended several living relations and not less than a few friends by refusing to attend funerals, but I cannot bring myself to do it again. I'd much rather remember Richard stealing pennies from me while we're playing penny-ante poker, or my grandfather complaining about the rabbits in his garden than everyone crying and trying to "be strong" and long eulogies delivered by people I don't like, misrepresenting the lives of people I did... Sorry. Funerals suck. And I won't go. Ever. Again. This is horrifically compounded by the fact that I have an absolute screaming phobia about dead things. And unfortuantely, once a person crosses into the land of "dead thing" for me, I just... yergh. It's bad, and I won't do that to myself or to anyone I love.
So, those are my 7 things that most people don't know... I'm also working on another list... 43 things I'd like to do before I die... but I sort of ran out of time today, so I didn't get to that. Maybe tomorrow. I expect that'll take me more than an hour or so to write, anyway...
As with all memes, I'm supposed to tag other people for it, but... pfft. If you want to do this, do it, and if not, don't feel obligated. You can let me know in the comments and I'll go look at your list...