Saturday, October 21, 2006

10 weird/wierd things

Thanks Michelle for tagging me with a meme. Next time please give me a month’s notice.

10 weird things about me

1. I pride myself on being a good speller but I always get hung up on the word “weird.” I have a brain lapse and I can’t remember if it’s ie or ei. Every time. I usually wind up substituting some other word like odd or idiosyncratic or anomalous. Those I can spell.

2. I love the smell of diesel fumes. I go out to wave goodbye to the Junior High kids getting on at the bus stop and I linger. . . just long enough that they think I’m a bit strange. Especially since none of my own boys are old enough yet for Junior High.

3. In a trait that my husband calls freaky but I say is endearing, I sleep with one eye partly open. This week, I took a picture of my daughter sleeping to use with an earlier post and I noticed with great pride that she does the same thing. It’s like she needs to keep tabs on the world at all times.
That’s my girl.

4. I use a thesaurus when I write. I even keep it handy when posting comments on other people’s blogs. Why say LOL when you can write “I reacted with mirth to your droll anecdote.”

5. For some strange reason, people think I’m a snob.

6. I was born into the middle of a large family. In the very middle. The pattern is: two boys, two girls, ME, two boys, two girls. Once I had discovered that there was anything to be gained by it, I milked this unfortunate circumstance for all the sympathy it was worth. At least that’s what my sisters tell me.

7. I think cilantro is of the devil.

8. I am a terrible clutz. I have been known to break my baby toe while walking around a corner in my home. Okay so I’ve done that twice. Also I’ve stepped up into a moving ceiling fan. And broken two ribs playing with my kids at the playground. Oh, this is supposed to be weird things not stupid embarrassing things? Moving on.

9. I love art. I once drove all the way from Pennsylvania to Georgia to see a painting. This was obviously before we had children and back when gas cost like 25 cents a gallon.

10. I listen to classical music in the car with my kids and crank up the volume really really loud (“Jupiter” from Holst’s Planets is the best). We roll down the windows and pull up next to people at red lights just to see what they’ll do. Maybe we should get a low-rider kit for the minivan.

I tag Lara.

11 comments:

scribbit said...

I love the rocking to classical music--I can see your minivan swaying at the light as I type. I've been known to freak my children with Night on Bald Mountain--nothing like the Russians for some truly disturbing stuff.

I'm clutzy too--and have passed it onto my oldest daughter, Grace (and there's an ironic name if ever there was :) We're joined in our lack of coordination.

You're awfully prompt with the response. Very impressed.

Kimberly said...

Want to know how weird I am? I'm practically a complete stranger, and I think you are a luverly, hilarious, intelligent, zany person and I am so happy to have discovered your blog!

Maybe if I hang around here enough some Julieness with rub off on me.

Radioactive Jam said...

Weirdness is one thing, but the ability to document some of that weirdness in such an amusing, engaging manner - that's a real gift.

Have you considered how #2 might be a factor in say, #1?

I sense a certain nagativity toward cilantro. But what about Cirondo, hmm?

And what, exactly, might one be expected to "do" when a low-rider minivan pulls alongside, with high volume classical music shattering glass up and down the roadway? Guess I'd extend and wave my index finger i.e. play Orchestra Conductor. The finger-waving would be the easy part; doing it with the requisite deadpan expression, that'd be hard.

I think.

Annie said...

Julie, thanks for dropping by my blog! I just wanted you to know that in signing your comment with your blogger name, it automatically leads me to your blog when I click on your name above your comment. Slick! (I hope I wrote that in a way that makes sense..)

Julie said...

Michelle,
Ah, Night on Bald Mountain -- very Halloweenesque.

Speaking of ironic names, how did my...shall we say...least angelic child end up with the name Gabriel?

Kimberly,
You're not a complete stranger. Once you say such nice things about me you're my new best friend. Thanks for visiting!

Jam
I thought you might harp on the diesel fumes. Especially since I'm already under investigation for the whole "getting high on new paperback smell" comment.

Cirondo looks like fun and it probably won't kill me with the horror of its acrid taste. I could choke on the pieces though.

Annie,
Thanks for the explanation. They make it easy to hop around the blogging world don't they? I appreciate you stopping by.

scribbit said...

You know I thought of you when I saw that, but to let you know how much of a cretin I am I said Brugels instead of Bosch. How embarrassing :). I have seen so few of those movies (I hate dark/horror films) but I love puzzles. I ended up googling the answers for the last dozen and cheated my way out of it. Have a nice weekend.

The Lazy Organizer said...

There I'm all done and it was more painful than I thought it was going to be!

I LOVE cilantro! One of these days I'm going to write a whole blog about my love for it!!!

My six year old sleeps with her eyes open. When she was a baby I used to close them but she would just open them again. I'm on your husband's side. It's freaky!

meno said...

Hi Julie, Thanks for stopping by my blog. This looks like a good read. I'll Be Back (use your ah-nold voice) I like your use of art.

Cilantro tastes like dirty dishwater.

Anonymous said...

Here's how I always remembered it:

i before e, except after c, and in weird words like weird.

Hey, whatever works! :)

sherry

The Daring One said...

I love #3 and #4 but #7 might seriously send me over the edge. I may never visit this weblog again. -Sincerely, Kathryn

Casey said...

I really hate that in America, we call them "diesels" the guy's name was Deisel.

so maybe i before e, except after c, and at other random intervals, or when ethnocentric pride dictates otherwise and you don't want to give the Krauts the credit.

I bought a car with a stereo the size of the lunar lander in the trunk. I love blasting Buddy Guy louder than anyone can annoy me with Nelly. Everyone with good taste needs to start this arms race up for real.