Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Seven (More) Things About Me

So I've been tagged... Apparently there are still people in this world who want to know more about me (even though I was pretty sure my secret confession re: liking Justin Timberlake's new album would have put people off of knowing anything else about me. I was wrong.)

In keeping with my ongoing theme of somewhat embarrassing revelations:


My first crush was on country singer Dwight Yoakam. (I was six, OK?) I used to to dream that he would ride up on a motorcycle and whisk me away from my quiet cul-de-sac. For the record: I'm officially petrified of motorcycles, I prefer quiet streets over bustling fairways and Dwight Yoakam?! Country music?!!! What was I thinking? (Aside: I agree with Karen that Dwight is one of the few tolerable country musicians. Forget about that 'rockin' country' crap. Rockin' my ass.)


Way back before I broke up with Math, we had a pretty steady relationship going on. My ma taught me how to carry numbers in addition when I was about four years old (once a geek, always a geek-- besides, I had already mastered things like reading and writing). I used to get hours of entertainment out of adding long numbers to themselves, then adding the answer to itself, etc., etc. (e.g. 123456789 + 123456789= 246913578. 246913578 + 246913578 =.....) My family even has me on tape asking Santa to give me those yellow pads of lined paper "so I could do more math" for Christmas. Math and Christmas?! Also, one time I brought in a whole binder of tiny math equations to my ECS class for show and tell. Needless to say, my five-year-old classmates looked at me as though I had an alien living on my head, then went back to showing off rocks and dolls. Juveniles. (However, that was the beginning of the end of my love affair with Math.)


From Grades 9-11, I had the dubious honour of sitting on Mayor Al Duerr's Youth Advisory Council. We met every month or so to discuss pressing issues like... um... to be honest, I don't know if we ever discussed any issues at all. All I remember was that I had been selected to be a part of the Council based on my half-assed recommendations to implement more mazes in the city. I guess I had made a pretty mean case in my application essay that mazes were 'affordable', 'safe', and 'fun' ways to engage and entertain the youth of the city. Forget what you think about mazes making excellent nooks for illicit drug use and sexual activities. Me and the former mayor agree: Mazes provide good clean fun.


If I had to pick one food item to live off of for the rest of my life, it would be hummus. God bless hummus.


I lied to the priest at my First Confession. Wait, wait-- allow me to explain. I underwent the sacrament en masse with my Grade 4 class from Catholic school. We were all petrified of eternal damnation and spent hours rehearsing what we would say to the priest when our turn to confess came. Anyway, I couldn't think of anything clever enough to say, and everyone I knew who had gone into the cubicle before me had confessed about fighting with their brothers and sisters. Being the little lamb I was at the time (I was nine), and wanting to come across to the priest as regular and ordinary (as opposed to being worthy of damnation at nine years old), I told the priest I had fought with my sisters when my turn finally came around. Um... to this day, I can still count on one hand the times I've argued with my sisters. OK, OK. So I lied. To a priest. During confession. And sort of defeated the whole purpose of the exercise. But at least I didn't fight with my sisters!


I used to work in the lingerie department at the Bay. During my year and a half there, I had at least 100 customers return (very obviously) used bras and underwear. I'm talking broken underwires, tattered lace, a cadaver-grey sheen from 10 good years of use, holes, and even skid marks. Yes, you heard me: SKID MARKS!!! So to those of you that buy your undergarments from the Bay (and why not? I still do), might I suggest you wash them first? Sometimes, even though it's best not to know, it doesn't hurt to put any of those nagging 'what if?' questions to rest.


I was pretty dirty and unkempt at my very own wedding ceremony. I had been wearing the same clothes for the past five days and hadn't washed my greasy hair in over a week! I didn't even have a dress for the occasion and so I had to borrow one... from Marty! Despite my general nastiness on that beautiful Thursday, though, I wouldn't change even one thing about the ceremony. In a word, it was perfect.

Nope-- that's not the wind blowing my hair. It's actually just a self-sculpting grease monster having its way with my scalp!


Gingersnaps with Tea... said...

Wow, those are cool things--and thank you for posting them. I think you looked gorgeous on your wedding day--grease monster or not. And, for the record, I've never ever returned any type of underwear or lingerie in my life--who DOES that?!

dana said...

It's gross, I know. We had an 'always say yes' policy at the Bay, which made for many a disgusting shift. And for the record: most of the people who returned underwear were the ones who lived in the Heights, Estates, or other well-to-do neighbourhoods about town. I just don't understand it.

Robin said...

You are too cute with your childhood stories! I love how you always have a fun twist to them. Lovely wedding photo - you know it's true love when your guy thinks 5-days of unwashed hair is perfect for your wedding day.

ink said...

i love your last "thing about me." it was perfect.