Blimey – Anna has just tagged me for a meme. Which makes me feel really guilty, since I totally owe her a reply to her last comment but, what with being terminally atrocious at ever getting round to commenting on comments (as previously commented), haven’t done so. Um. Sorry.
Anyway, I am meant to start this one by posting the rules, thusly:
1) Post these rules before you give your facts.
2) List 8 random facts about yourself
3) At the end of your post, choose (tag) 6 people and list their names, linking to them
4) Leave a comment on their blog, letting them know they’ve been tagged.
OK. So now I need to come up with eight not-utterly-boring facts about myself that I don’t mind posting on this blog but haven’t posted here already. Um…
1. I always wear socks which match my top. ‘Match’ normally refers to colour but can sometimes be theme; for example, I could wear elephant socks with an elephant T-shirt. But there has to be some kind of connection. On work days, when I change into casual clothes when I get home, I pick out a work top and a T-shirt in similar colours so that I don’t have to change socks. I have a drawer devoted to T-shirts in the same colour ranges as my work tops, to make this easier.
2. Continuing on the sartorial theme, I collect T-shirts and novelty socks. I won’t wear socks that don’t have some kind of picture or design on them (good grief, life is just too short to waste it wearing boring socks) and when I’m not at work I always wear some kind of decorated/novelty T-shirt. I don’t collect them as assiduously as I used to – I used to be downright undiscriminating and ended up with literally hundreds of T-shirts, spilling out of all available cupboard and drawer space, but then I went all Flylady and cleared out loads of the ones that weren’t really all that good – but I’ve still got a lot. My ambition is to collect a T-shirt for each US state.
3. I’m damn good at proofreading. Not as good as I used to be, as I get older and my brain atrophies, but still good. It’s weird, because I am a totally non-visual person in other ways, but spelling and punctuation errors leap off the page at me. (I should totally not confess to that, because I’ll only go and make a ridiculously glaring mistake on this blog straight away and look like an arrogant idiot.) It took me years, when I was a child, to realise that this was a talent and not something everyone could do – in fact, I remember feeling quite left out because I was about the only person in my class who never had any words to write in the spelling book we were meant to use for writing out words we found difficult to spell (I was so pleased when I stumbled briefly on the correct arrangement of c’s and s’s in ‘necessary’ and could legitimately put that one down). It has been a spectacularly useful talent to have, but does mean that the spell-check function on word processors drives me mad. (Now that Typepad have started an automatic one, can anyone tell me how to switch it the hell off? And, by the way, I’ve just discovered, in typing that last sentence, that Typepad’s spell-checker doesn’t contain the word ‘Typepad’ and will flag it up as a mis-spelling. Which does strike me as ironically bad planning on the part of whomever set the spell-check up.)
4. I have dual citizenship. I realise I’m shamelessly borrowing that idea for a Random Fact from one of the other people Anna tagged, but what can I say? It’s true, and I don’t have that many interesting facts available in my life to draw on. In my case, the two citizenships are British and US. I was born in the US, and, after living here all my life since shortly before my third birthday, I got British citizenship as well when I was seventeen.
5. I once had a (very) brief job as a problem page editor for an erotic women’s magazine. The reason it was brief was not because of any apparent dissatisfaction with my work, but because the magazine itself was so brief – it didn’t actually get beyond the pilot issue before folding. Looking back, this isn’t terribly surprising, given the general impression of lack of organisation that seemed to permeate my dealings with them – I never actually spoke to or was contacted by the editor, and was offered the job because one of my friends knew the editor and recommended me. This recommendation was made on the strength of me leaving one of my medical journals lying around when the friend was visiting, open to a page with a diagram of some sort of infertility treatment. She decided that anyone who read this sort of thing had to be exactly the right sort of person to write the problem page for an erotica magazine. What more could anyone ask for? And, if anyone was so unreasonable as to expect me to possess any more qualifications for the job, then there were also the useful details of me being a qualified doctor who could write well. Anyway, she mentioned my name to the would-be editor who said, yes, she’d be happy to employ me in that capacity, and passed the job offer back to me, and I accepted it. I never actually got as far as being offered a single problem to solve (thank goodness for that – I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’d have said), but I did write a couple of pieces on safe sex and, um, other stuff, which I submitted and which were accepted. Whether they actually made it into the one and only issue ever published, I have no idea, as I never got a copy. But, for a short while, I was technically entitled to call myself a problem page editor for an erotic magazine, and I certainly did. Well, I needed something to put on my appraisal to liven it up.
6. I have one tattoo. It’s of the comedy/tragedy masks used as a symbol of drama, and it’s on my upper right abdominal wall, just on the lower border of my ribcage. I chose this site because I knew that concerns over covering it up would never restrict my choice of clothes (not any choice of clothes I’d ever make, anyway), but that I’d have the option of showing it off without being arrested for indecent exposure whenever I did choose to do so. I do have to say that the drawback to this site was that it was bloody painful to have done, as it was so close to the bone. But I loved it once it was done. I had it done seven years ago and think it’s cool. That’s going to be my one and only tattoo, however – I don’t want to gild the lily.
7. I can’t see the pictures in those three-dimensional picture things. No matter how hard I try. So I think I’m just one of those people who won’t ever be able to see them.
8. In my final-year yearbook poll at medical school, I got voted third for the ‘Most Likely To Be Sectioned’ award, and winner of the ‘Worst Dress Sense’ award. I do have to point out that this was in the days when I had not yet instituted no. 1 on this list. Just think what could have been, had I been someone who took care always to wear socks that matched my top back in the days when the vote was taking place. Perhaps I could even have been winner of the ‘Most Likely To Be Sectioned’ award.
OK. Now I have to find six people to pass the meme on to, in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of chain letters. Chain blogging?
I’d really like to tag Magpie, but she’s still retired from blogging. So is From The Start, though I hope she starts again now that she’s getting closer to her due date and should have plenty to blog about by now (hey, are you reading this?) So I’m going to tag Emms, Missy, Griff, Tracicle, Trash, and Krissy. Now I have to think of stuff to write in all their comments…
Anyway, before I wrap this up, a quick reply to Anna’s previous comment, since I haven’t replied to it yet: Yes, the ultrasonographer thought it was a girl, but she did tell us that scans are only 95% accurate for checking gender, so we have both names ready. Glad you like them – let me know if you want a post about how we picked them (I was going to post about that, but decided it would be a pretty boring subject to anyone who wasn’t me and left it). And the book you suggested is one I did check out, but it seemed to be mostly about Mummy being pregnant whereas what I’m after is books that talk about what Jamie can expect after the baby’s born. (By the way, today he actually asked – for the first time – to say hello to the baby. So he did. Incredibly sweet.)