Eight Things About Me

So Roni tagged me with a meme. I think this is actually the first time I've been tagged with one, and it is something I've actually been thinking about, because when I look at my blog, I feel so one-sided. There's so much about me none of you know and that I just don't blog about, but here's an excuse, as Roni put it, to blog about something other than poop. I'm cheating by not putting in the rules, as I was instructed, but that could be one of the things I say: I've never been good at following instructions.

Eight Obscure Things About Me:

1. Between the ages of ten and fourteen I actually lived in Boulder, Colorado, although when people ask me where I'm from, I say without hesitation, "Miami Beach." (I spent ages three to ten in South Miami and fourteen to eighteen in Miami Beach, so even that is a simplified answer.) I made exactly one good friend there (hi, Karin!), and the rest of those years really, really sucked. Big time.
   
2. I lost thirty pounds with Weight Watchers after Pie was born and for over a year, I've kept twenty-six of those pounds off.
   
3. I ate peyote in the desert of New Mexico on a hot summer's night and all it really did was make everything look sharp and clear (I could see the details of the moon with my naked eye) and it made me incredibly nauseous.
   
4. For the past five years I've been working on a novel and it's finally done. Finito. Believe it or not it has absolutely not a single thing to do with motherhood or poop. Time to try to get it published or stick it in my bottom drawer and move on to the next one. (Any agents or editors reading this, by any chance...?)
   
5. When I was in my late twenties, I lived on a kibbutz for 6 1/2 months and the whole time, I wore someone else's old, dirty, yucky work boots as I worked in the kiwi fields. I'd be so tired at the end of the workday that I'd crash in my bed even though I was covered, head to toe, in dirt and I could never get the dusty, sandy feeling from my bed.
   
6. I hate going to bed with the closet doors opened or the dresser drawers not closed all the way.
   
7. I got a failure notice in 12th grade A.P. Bio that said, "If Jennifer spent a quarter as much time studying as she did talking to H.W. in class, she'd be getting an A in A.P. Biology. I ended up with a C. My younger sister had the same teacher the summer before in a gifted kids' science program, and all year, he'd look at me, shake his head, and say, "Are you sure you're the Tweedle Twirp's sister?"
   
8. For years, as a preteen, I had a gigantic poster of Scott Baio pinned up on my corkboard (had to have corkboard because my mother forbid me from taping anything to our walls).
   

Oh, this was so much fun! Not writing about poop is good for the soul. I need to remember to do that more often.

Now, I order Carly, Alisa, and Jordana. And there I go again, breaking the rules, tagging fewer than eight people.