S’s Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 30 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 30 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you. Just quit the internal whining and do it.
This was originally a Facebook worm meme, but I’m not too hot about posting anything of worth length on Facebook at the moment. The hardest part of answering this is coming up with 30 interesting things to say about myself. The second hardest part is answering without revealing too much about myself, because…
- I’m a very introverted person, and being in the public view online is utterly terrifying.
- Blogging, tweeting, and other online posts are an act of defiance against my innate cowardice.
- Only one of the characters in my NaNoWriMo book, “The First Lesson” is based on a person I know in real life and thus is not an aspect of myself.
- Blue. Vibrant, deep, living blue. The color of the sky just before full night hits. The deep ocean when there are no waves. Blue.
- The name on my birth certificate means something that very few (if any) family members know, but once it is revealed, a lot of my life’s history makes painful sense. Let’s talk about albatrosses.
- Almost every female in my maternal lineage has had paranormal experiences. Most of those openly talked about are visions and dreams where information was passed that wound up saving a family member’s life. The family gossip is that I am too educated (read: intellectual) to have my own set of paranormal experiences. ~looks at her tarot decks, rune set, and assorted magic items~ ~falls over laughing~
- Went full tilt into Christianity shortly after graduating high school. (So many years ago.) Tried to live for a decade as a dedicated fundamentalist Christian woman. It didn’t work out. I went batshit insane until I realized what the problem was.
- I have had “spirits” tapping me on my shoulder all my life. The problem was they did not go away when I became Christian. No amount of prayer or repentance could shift them. Combine that with the perceived taint of divorce and the rebellion of studying the bible for myself instead of just accepting what the men of my congregations said, and I was under some heavy-duty ostracizing, shaming, and inspection. When I realized that the “spirits” would truly never leave me, I asked them what they wanted with me. “The immediate goal is to put you back on your proper path. This isn’t it.”
- Six months of brutal self-honesty, introspection, and analysis later, I understood that I would never be a proper Christian “sheep” (Matthew 25:32-33). I was a “goat” from birth, and it was time to stop playing a role not meant for me.
- The closest I have ever felt to Jehovah, was the day I told him, “Goodbye.” (His response: “Do what you must, but if you ever wish to return to me, I will accept you.”)
- 4 slices of applewood smoked bacon fried to crispy brittleness and just this side of burning. 2 slices of bread, toasted to golden delicacy. Mayonnaise. Fuck yea.
- That’s my coffee mug. And that’s my tea mug. Don’t. Touch. Them. I. Will. Hurt. You.
- While my mother was pregnant with me, my parents went on a back country road at too damn late at night. Taking a short cut through the dense and foggy back country woods, their car suddenly stalled and came to a stop on what they thought was a small rise. The freight train’s lights was obscured by the trees and fog, their radio had been turned up loud enough to obscure the noise. The train missed them by a few feet. My father swears to this day, after the train passed, the car started up on its own and started rolling across the tracks and down the other side of the crossing.
- While working at a railyard, I was given bad information about the status of trains in the yard. A passenger train came around a blind bend at 55mph just as I was crossing the tracks in the company SUV. The back end was caught and I was dragged a few feet before the bumper detached from the frame and I was able to speed away from the train. (I bent the gas pedal by damn near standing on it.) The crewman that gave me the bad information was my passenger, and the only thing that kept me from strangling him afterward was the yard master calling dibs on eviscerating him over the radio.
- I don’t fear trains.
- My mother’s family is black. My father is hispanic. My mother’s family thinks she married beneath her. My father’s family once offered to provide him the services of a prostitute for life if he would leave my mother. Both sides have rejected me because of the other side’s blood. This black vs. hispanic war has bounded my life. Even in school, I was not accepted by either ethnic side because I was not $ethnicity enough. Many people assume I am not American because I don’t act “black” or “latina”. I often don’t correct them right away.
- By not having an identity bound to a particular ethnic subculture, I have the freedom to explore them all. By being “nothing”, I can become “anything”. A Wandering Soul.
- My opinion of Loki: A sneaky, conniving, manipulative, cocksure, bastard! A thief, a rabblerouser, a muckraker, and a skirt-chaser! Blood boiler, inflamer of desire, that shifty voice that says “You know you wanna…”. That daring voice that says “I wonder if…”. ~sigh~ Oh, his soft hands. Wait, what was the question?
- I was molested as a child, and raped as a woman. After much work, I’ve mostly gotten over it. I can speak of all the incidents without being debilitated by the memories. Because I don’t fall apart when speaking of it, I have been accused of lying. “If you were truly raped, you wouldn’t be able to $TriggerAction!” I don’t understand this thinking. I still need to work on being able to stand in front of a mirror. I can’t stand the sight of my own face in full. Makes putting on makeup… interesting.
- I have a difficult time seeing the sweet without also seeing the bitter. I’m told this is a personality defect. ~smirk~ But for me, knowing the bitter helps me appreciate the sweet all the more.
- The only way you’re getting me on that roller coaster is with duct tape and bungee cords. I know too much about metal fatigue to trust those damn things.
- I can’t stand most commercial chocolate. It tastes like cocoa mixed with sawdust. The wrapper of a Hershey’s bar has more taste than the product inside.
- I’m polyamorous. I’m pan. I keep my mouth shut in mixed company about my relationships. I’m very picky about who I will pour my physical affections on. And I’m discreet in public. So most of my in-person acquaintances think I have no interest. And to be honest, I don’t see myself having a romantic relationship ever again.
- At a particular GLBT bar, however, I am certainly not discreet about my orientation. (Oh the visual delight of the Woman in the Black Dress! How envious I am of the cloth! Would that it be my hands that… Um… ~blush~ 30 random things, back to the program, gotcha.)
- I have only been studying tarot since October 2007.
- I have only been studying the runes since October 2009, and I am forbidden from using them for divination.
- I steadfastly claim I am a master of neither and no one should take anything I say about it seriously. After all, I’m only an idle dreamer and seeker of visions. It’s not like I have any part of me rooted in the here and physical.
- I have very few magic tools that I actually need, but I love having them.
- I love reading/hearing/learning stories as much as I love telling/writing/sharing them.
- I will not be found in a book.