The game: Each player of this game starts off with ten weird things or habits or little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged must write in a blog of their own ten weird things or habits or little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you must choose six people to be tagged and list their names. No tag backs!
This will be a pretty long post, since I've used up so many short facts about myself in my "about me" section. Also, I forget who I've told what to, and there are some things I don't really like to talk about that much, so this may be repeat information for some of you. But I'll give it my best shot. :)
1. I've lived a lot of places. Namely: Frankfurt am Main, Germany; Fort Sill, Oklahoma; Tulsa, Oklahoma; Bogalusa, Louisiana; Port Angeles, Washington; Seattle, Washington; Baton Rouge, Louisiana; Orange, Texas; Rome, Georgia; Bellingham, Washington; Portland, Oregon; Redmond, Washington; and Marysville, Washington. Some of these stays were pretty short, but all of them have confirmed and re-confirmed two important things to me:
a) Everyone is different.
b) Everyone is basically the same.
2. I had my first near-death experience at a very young age (four or five, I can't remember which) when I was bitten by a fire ant (ONE fire ant, on my pinky toe), and went into anaphylactic shock. I was a pretty thoughtful kid to begin with (if I do say so myself), so this experience lead to a lot of introspective thoughts on the meaning of life, the randomness and inevitability of death, the purpose of making my bed every gd morning, etc.
It did not help me behave like less of a freak, but I think it did help me open my eyes more to the beauty, tragedy, and tragic beauty of humanity and the world in general. I also think it made me a little bit of a hypochondriac.
3. I touched briefly on my weirdness and thoughtfulness in the last fact-thing, but I'll use them for this one too: for many years of my childhood, my mom made me see a shrink. Well, I guess it would be shrinkS, since there were a good deal of them. I think they started around the time my parents got divorced (she thought I needed professional help because I wasn't as upset as she thought I SHOULD be), and they went on consistently through middle school, with a few visits here and there to different people even while I was in college.
Most of them were utter crap (in my opinion), but a couple of them were okay/good, and I learned some helpful things about myself along the way. The MOST important thing I learned was from the last shrink I saw when I was in middle school. After spending years as a weirdo with my mom reinforcing my feelings of weirdness by not only TELLING me I was a weirdo (among other things), but also dragging me to shrinks all the time (often during school hours), my self esteem wasn't that great. I didn't know why I was weird, I just WAS. And I didn't know why I couldn't be normal, but I COULDN'T. I was an outcast, and I felt like a failure.
But after the umpteen-millionth shrink hadn't been able to tell her exactly what was wrong with me that would cause me to be such a freak, my mom dragged me to *the shrink that would end all shrinks.* Well, until voluntary visits in college anyway.
We had a few normal shrink-type visits where he would ask me questions while I picked at my nail polish and spit out the answers I thought he wanted to hear, then we had a few normal Catherine-type visits where I insulted his intelligence and fashion sense and refused to get out of the car because talking to him was a waste of my time.
Then he brought out the big guns. He asked me if I wanted to do puzzles. I didn't have to talk about school or home or food or anything else predictable and uncomfortable, I JUST had to come in and do puzzles. There were word puzzles, block puzzles, number puzzles, etc. I love puzzles, so I cooperated and actually started enjoying myself. After a few weeks he told me that I'd been taking an IQ test, and that I was retarded.
Syke. Apparently I'm smarter than 98% of you motherfuckers. Actually...if you're reading my blog you're probably smarter than most, so I'm probably only smarter than like...eh...maybe half of you? That sounds about right to me.
I like to waste my intelligence on things like perfect makeup application and complicated plans to scare the crap out of Brett, but knowing that I'm *secretly* brilliant has helped my self esteem a lot. Maybe too much.
4. Okay, I *know* this one will be a shock to most of you. Despite my dirty mind, sailor's vocabulary, occasional flirtatiousness, and small personal bubble, I'm actually a little bit of a prude. In my entire life, including Brett, I've only ever made out with three people. And no, I've not had sex with more people than that. I'm very picky, and very loyal. And though sometimes tv makes me feel like I should've been more slutty when I had the chance, I still think pickiness and loyalty are great things, and I'm proud of myself for not hooking it out to every perv who was interested. Though it's not like I think less of people who do.
5. Most people who know me know I have OCD. A lot of people SAY things like, "ohmygod. haha! I'm like, so OCD!" But it's not really true. I hide it pretty well, but if you're suuuuper observant, you'll notice me doing stuff like touching things through my sleeves, opening doors with my feet or elbows, flipping any and every coin heads up (even if it's a whole cup of them at a time), chewing waaaay too much gum (I go through about a pack and a half of Dentyne Ice Arctic Chill a week), touching light switches just a little too long, straightening things out at just the right angle when I set them down, making sure all the cabinet doors are "all the way" closed before going to bed or leaving the house, etc. Sometimes I'll even set something down, walk away, and come back to set it down "right." I count things, I tap things, I fidget, and I can do some other things that are downright creepy. But again - I think I hide it well, and it doesn't have too much of an impact on my every day life. And I don't take medication, because I don't like being medicated.
6. Ugh...I'm having trouble thinking of things to write here. Number six will beeeeeee...um...I am happily married. Not happily married as in, "I'm not UNhappily married, and I'm not interested in cheating." But HAPPILY married. As in every day I feel lucky, completely in love, and excited to get in as much time as possible with my husband.
We've been together for seven and a half years, married for just over six, and we still don't get sick of each other, we've still never fallen asleep angry with each other, we can still find things to talk about for hours at a time, we still wrestle and snuggle and laugh together every day, we still share all our hopes/dreams/fears, we still get to know each other better every day as we grow and change together, and we're still best friends.
I feel like we're kind of...like, two wholes that make a greater whole or something. Not like two halves, because we were both pretty complete before we got together. But even though we were doing really well before, and neither of us was LOOKING for love at the time, somehow when we started hanging out we were just drawn to each other. Like magnets. Or like two small transformers that fit together to form one large robot. We're Duocons! Yeah!!!
Anyway, aside from the fact that neither one of us was desperate, rebounding, or hugely insecure when we got together, I think the greatest reason that we have such an enjoyable relationship is our friendship. It's like, a REAL friendship.
Like, Brett can stink up the bed, and usually I'll just end up dutch ovening him in his own vile gasses until I collapse in a fit of giggles. And I like looking nice for him, but I don't care if he sees me with greasy hair and no makeup, because I know he still loves me even when I'm at my fugliest, and vice versa. And we both really like making the other person happy, but we're also good at making ourSELVES happy, which I think is important. We're a team, and we feel like a team. It's good stuff.
7. My love of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic films has lead to many freaky apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic dreams over the years. And let me tell you something - zombies may not be that scary on the big screen (at least to me), but when you're stuck in a dream with them and they're trying to get into your house, it's no fun. Especially since with these types of dreams I can often end up picking up where I left off the next time I fall asleep. But despite all those long nights spent fearing my impending dreams, I still think zombie movies are worth it.
8. Jesus Christ, I can't believe I still have three things left to write about. I just turned to Brett and said, "Quick, if someone asked you to tell them something about me, what would you say?!?"
Brett: Something they don't already know?
Me: Yeah. Like if Shannon were to say, "tell me something I don't already know about Cat."
Brett" Um...that you're pro-level at Wii Bowling?
It's weak, but I'll use it. I'm pro-level at Wii bowling and golf. But I hate Wii boxing. I also dislike most "real" sports. Including poker, which I'm counting as a sport because of it's presence on ESPN.
I'm also not a big (or even a small) gambler. I've never been to Vegas (and if I went it'd be for the high-class nekkie shows, not for the gambling), and I've never even been in a real casino, even though we have a pretty nice one on the res, which is just across the freeway from my house.
9. Even though I'm all reformed into a nice, pink-apron-wearing housewife now, I'd still like a couple more piercings and/or tattoos. I'm not *exactly* sure what I want done as far as tattoos go, but I know I at least want something that runs down my spine. From C7 all the way down to my sacrum. I don't know where else I'd want to be tattooed - maybe just under my hairline on my neck, or on my shoulder blade or something. As for the piercings, I think I just want a rook piercing in each ear, and I'll probably leave it at that. I'm not big on facial piercings on girls, and I've known a few people with more "intimate" piercings and they've rarely sounded (or looked) that impressive. Not to mention the potential problems people sometimes run into...yikes!
I like the look of clavicle and nape piercings on girls, but I talked to a professional body artist about them once, and she had enough negative things to say about the risks involved to turn me away from them for good.
Also, I don't think I'd want anything else that wouldn't be easily covered by my hair or clothes. I've had my little wrist tattoo for...crap...about 14 years now, and *I'm* used to it, but a lot of other people aren't. And sometimes I forget that it's there and then I'll see it in a photo or something and think, "Wow. That looks not-classy."
Because my appreciation for body modification notwithstanding, I don't think I've ever seen a tattoo or piercing and thought that it made someone look more classy. Not that they don't look GOOD a lot of the time; they just don't usually scream elegance.
Here's a body modification story that will have my parents running for the hills (hi dad!): once upon a time, way back when my mom was selling real estate for a living, she worked in an office with a guy named Patrick. I don't remember how old he was...maybe in his late twenties? My impression of him at the time was that he was a grown up, but not like, a GROWN UP grown up. Despite his career in real estate and his clean-cut, suit-and-tie exterior, Patrick was a die-hard rocker. He even claimed to be friends with famous rockers. And I think he may have actually been telling the truth, because I know he hung out with the guys from GnR; I ran into him once while he was hanging out with Slash. Then again, I did scalp Nirvana tickets to him once. You'd think that if he was so hardcore he'd already have gotten the tickets on his own. Maybe not though...by the time Kurt offed himself I think a lot of people were getting tired of them, and the tickets I sold him were for what ended up being his last Seattle concert.
But I digress. My point was that, even though he looked clean cut, he was not. It was the ultimate bad boy image: "I'm so bad that I can actually pull off looking good." It was a new concept to my young, pink-haired, fishnet-stockinged self, and it was one that I liked. My fascination with his dichotomous image was fueled even more when I saw him shirtless (NOTHING happened) - he was covered in tattoos, and even had a couple of piercings (I think you know where). From that moment on, I was hooked on that concept.
I think in part it's because (oh, I'm totally using this for number ten)...
10. I'm a die-hard Gemini. There exists within me a duality that can probably only be understood by crazy people, and other Geminis. I like blood and guts, but I like romance. I like snakes and spiders, but I like kittens and puppies. Sephora and Stephen King. Art and science. Baking bread and painting monsters. Photographing flowers and carrion...you get the picture.
Meeting Patrick helped me realize the true pink goth that was lurking inside of me: I may posses the *ability* to run down the street in 6" platform heels and the *bravery* to shave off half my hair, but dammit, I still want to look cute. And I LIKE wearing knit tops and flipping out my hair.
Whew! On that note...I'M DONE. I think I've royally butchered the whole "10 Things" thing with my rambling thoughts and gross verbosity, but whatevs. Maybe this can serve as a test to see who actually reads my posts, no matter how long they are.
The six people I'm tagging (who may or may not end up reading this far into the post) are: Aaron, Ai, Alison, Amy, Dan, and Jon. I picked them because they're the top six people on my blogroll who haven't already been tagged. So happy posting, friends! :)
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