Hoo boy. Well, I don’t generally spend too much time on the navel-gazing posts (“and this morning, my cat puked, and it was this really weird colour, and then I cleaned out my bellybutton lint, and I’m making spaghetti for supper, and…”), but it would appear that one has now been specifically requested. I’ve been tagged by Wildly Parenthetical in a blog meme that requires the taggees to write out eight previously unknown or little-known facts about themselves, post ’em, and tag eight more bloggers to do the same. So perhaps I’ll take a short break from intellectual sex musings and procrastinate a bit more (when I should really be working on an editing contract or packing for my coming pilgrimage to Chicago to check out the Leather Archives and Museum) by taking up the challenge. It’s called productive procrastination, folks: I’ve already done eight loads of laundry, mailed a package, re-alphabetized my CD collection and added 40 photos to my Facebook account today. I’m on a fuckin’ roll.
So. Eight heretofore unknown facts. Please note, they will have nothing to do with gender or sexuality; I already write about that shit all the time, so I’d be hard pressed to find anything surprising to tell you. To those who really do come here for the intellectual stimulation: my deepest apologies for the silliness of this. I don’t plan to make it a habit.
1. When I was a kid, for many years, I had dreams of being a fashion designer. I used to keep a huge binder stuffed with drawings of wild outfits. These days that’s translated into a stupidly huge wardrobe, but no collections debuting on the runways in Milan anytime soon… I also entertained a passion for geology for several years, and seriously considered a career as a wildlife researcher in good part because I was so utterly fascinated by bats.
2. I have never been drunk and I’ve never had a cup of coffee. In my entire life. And in high school, I never received a single detention. But I once lit a fire in the schoolyard and got suspended for it. Yowza! The good girl goes wild!
3. My great-grandfather, Davidson Black, was one of the people who discovered and published findings about the Peking Man – one of the missing links in human evolutionary theory. Another great-grandfather of mine, Edgerton Ryerson, is known as the founder of the public school system in Ontario. Yep. I come from a looong line of geeks.
4. I’m a certified fitness instructor (specializing in weight training), and I know how to tango, figure skate, rock climb, swim, do yoga and a do bunch of other things. But I failed gym class in high school. Yup. Totally completely failed.
5. I was a Girl Guide. And not just any Girl Guide. A Girl Guide who had put in her time as a Brownie for three years first, and who did Girl Guide camp every year (I can pitch a tent with the best of them, yo), and who sold the cookies like a champ, and who, in true overachiever style, earned a whackload of badges and eventually the All-Round Cord, which is, like, the single most notable marker of total overachieverness you can get when you’re 11 and wearing a blue uniform once a week. Sure, I figured out later that the Girl Guide program was suspiciously heavy on the domestic skills compared to my brothers’ Boy Scout programs, which pissed me off to no end. But even today I still love those cookies, dammit.
6. I narrowly escaped a gang-rape (or some other sort of group sexual assault) on the part of a bunch of neighbourhood boys when I was 12. Nobody actually laid a hand on me, but only because I managed to clue in that something was not quite right – they had gathered in a suspiciously deliberate way and were trying to corner me – and run the hell away really really fast. Funny, I hadn’t thought of that in a long time.
7. I type 92 words a minute. (Always wanted to know that. Found an online typing test here, in case anyone’s curious to know their own speed. Am completely charmed that I got to test my typing on an excerpt from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.)
8. I am the only geeky person I know who bought The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, started reading it, and fucking hated it so much that I brought it back to the bookstore and asked for my money back. But I vehemently insist that I retain my (non-sex-)geek cred because I can recite every line in the scripts of all three original Star Wars movies, including the parts spoken (?) by R2D2 and Chewbacca, and I play Gameboy on the shitter.
Sorry, folks. That’s probably not the most exciting list of unknowns… I don’t have a particularly murky past or a list of secret neuroses to share. I’ll go back to your regularly scheduled programming in my next post, which I promise will be all about sadomasochistic debauchery or something.
Oh, my eight blogger tags: Jake, n*q, God (Dave), Graydancer, Misha, Dr. Sam, Dreamy Prunewhip, and Gary/Nancy. But I won’t bug you about it; friends, if you read this, and you decide to take up the challenge, send me a note or post a comment here if you’re OK with being more public. I’m curious to know what all I don’t know about you.