A friend of mine tagged me on MySpace to come up with 8 goofy facts about myself and I have to say, I probably wrote the most boring eight things ever. He had some crazy funny stories from college and mine were like, “Blah.” So, I’m doing it again. I’m doing it here. And if you wanna write eight goofy things about you (okay, they don’t have to be THAT goofy), drop me a comment so I go look!
1. In college, there was a group of us who went out a lot – which included another Sarah. Since I got over being Sarah T. (my maiden initial) in about third grade, I didn’t want to go that route. I took on a derivative of my middle name. Consequently, there is a group of people from that time in my life who only know me as “Annie”.
2. Y’all know I’m scared of flying, right? I wasn’t really afraid of flying before I had kids. Now, all I can think of on a plane is that I’m going to crash and Hubby will raise them, and I worry about how that would go and how he would do, and how much they would miss me.
3. But, on another flying note, since most planes crash within 45 seconds of takeoff, I always count to 45 slowly after taking off, after which I am able to somewhat relax myself.
4. I once threw nearly a dozen roses out my dorm window my freshman year of college. I had been dating this guy (who is now happily married to a girl I went to high school with), and he sent me a dozen red roses before finals. Note: I hate red roses. I figured any guy who “cared” enough to send flowers really ought to know first that I think red roses are somewhat generic – it’s the go-to flower for unoriginal guys, I guess (which is fine if you are a woman who likes red roses – though I’m not one of them). I gave a few roses to my neighbors – and chucked the rest out my fifth floor dorm window (and I broke up with the guy too – which left him confused and wondering what on earth happened, though the roses certainly weren’t the only issue).
5. I was voted “Most School Spirit” in high school and by golly! Did I have spirit! (Yes yes yes I do, I have spirit, how ’bout you?!). And yes. I was a cheerleader. I cheered for three years in high school – six seasons of sports. One season we had an exceptionally bad basketball team (final record? 2 – 18). We made up a cheer on the sidelines that we did quietly, “H-E-double-L, you’re playing like hell, now GO!” Um. Yeah. Rah.
6. I am really trying to learn to find joy in cooking. Now that I am home all day every day, and dinner is not a hurried-home-from-work-mad-dash-to-get-something-on-the-table, I have really been trying to find new recipes, do new things. This week, I made a hungarian meatball stew and pasta arrabbiata (which was so spicy, my mouth was ON FIRE). My new hobby is smacking cloves of garlic with the knife to squash them. Yeah, I could totally be on Food Network now. Or not.
7. If money were no object, I’d definitely get plastic surgery. No need to speculate what I’d have done – no Extreme Makeover, but… I’d get some work done, absolutely.
8. I have better taste than I give myself credit for. When we were doing the addition of the house, I really questioned myself a lot on the paint colors I was picking, and little details. When I transferred to a new college my junior year, my original intent had been to study Interior Design. I didn’t go that route, but I do think part of me has that little space in my brain that can find colors that are visually appealing. We get compliments on our colors all the time, and every time, I give myself a silent “atta girl”. I’m pretty proud of the end result of all that work!
I love that you chucked the roses out the window. I was always too afraid to hurt someone’s feelings & then they wouldn’t like me…even if I didn’t really like them…yeah, basically I’m a push over with serious issues. I wanted to throw things many times, but never did. You’re my new hero!
He wasn’t there to see me do it – so it’s slightly less heroic, I’m thinking. He had the flowers delivered to me, and I was just thinking, “Whaaaaaat??” And I’m sure he had to have thought, “I just spent a lot of freakin’ money on roses, why is she dumping me?” Yellow roses, he mighta gotten by for a few more weeks. Gerbera daisies could have bought him a few more days. Red roses = kiss of death.
Red roses make me angry too. The Man and I got in a big fight last Valentine’s Day because he brought those home.