The rules for this game, devised by the instigator and passed to me by Kanrei, are as follows:
1. Write six weird things about yourself.
2. Post this confession of the absurd on your blog.
3. Tag six other bloggers to do the same challenge.
4. Leave a comment on each of their blogs to inform them they have been chosen.
Here goes.
1. I collect clocks. The more they chime, the better I like them. I am not obsessed with time -- or the passage thereof. I just love interesting and unique clocks. Ask me if I appear to be insane twice a year when the time changes.
2. I taught myself to read when I was 4 years old. When I approached my mother bearing the funny paper and told her I could read it, she slapped my hands for "lying." She was about to send me to my room until I started reading the paper to her. I've been reading -- and learning stuff -- ever since.
3. I hate crowds and parties. I will lie out my butt to come up with an excuse to avoid a big party. I'm not proud of the lying part, but I am not a masochist and just plain don't see any percentage in torturing myself. I've been advised to have a few drinks first and go in feeling no pain, but that doesn't work for me. I have maybe 5 or 6 drinks a year (I don't like the taste of most alcohol and I HATE giving up control), and I don't want them all at the same time.
4. I used to be overly empathetic, like Kanrei. I got over it.
5. I love to sing -- in the bathtub, in the kitchen, in the car. I don't care where. If there's music playing, I'm going to sing along with it. There have been only a few souls unlucky (and stupid) enough to tell me I wasn't very good.
6. The weirdest thing about me is ... up for debate. I get accused of stuff all the time, stuff I never even thought of doing. To tell the truth, I wish I had thought of some of it. I think many people are weird; therefore, if I myself am weird, I don't even see it. And therefore, I don't care.
I hereby tag Southern Writer (and pray this isn't the same thing she got tagged with the other day), Moristotle, Roxan, Mike A/Hale McKay, Liz, and Dorothy. Rex and Kan have, of course, already been tagged, as has VariantE who started this. And Steve's out, pleading Witness Protection.
Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
15 comments:
Man, you are WEIRD!!!!
Reading at age 4?!? Girl, you so crazy!
******
Hope are having a good day Serena!
Weirdo!
Clocks? Ticking clocks? Everything else I am right inline with, but clocks?
Why, thank you so much, Rex. Of course, I'm crazy! What else would I be?!:)
I've had a terrific day, and expect to have another one tomorrow. I'm eating turkey and everything else in sight, and shall remain blissfully ignorant as to what in the hell giblets are. (If you know, don't tell me!)
I hope you've had a fabulous day as well. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.
You're calling me a weirdo, Kan? Hell, yeah! I'll take it.
My clocks tick, chime, ding, peal, and everything else clocks do -- except cuckoo. I don't have one of those; don't want one. I adore them, and not only because it keeps people who hate the chiming from wanting to spend the night at my house.
Happy Thanksgiving to you!
You too (from afar)
Ok we both have weird collections. Thank god I don't have to maintain mine twice a year! The ticking would drive me crazy...but then again, try the smell of 50,000 crayons in one room. Wow! But reading at 4...now something is wrong there; you should have been demolishing things at that stage like other kids!
Hey, Variant. I saw your answer about your crayon fascination. Very cool. Trust me, I demolished my share of stuff, though. Like ... crayons. I went through them like crazy; been drawing since before I could write. My mother swears I ate them. I don't remember that. 4's not so early for reading, though; Rex was doing it at 3.
Okay, I concede -- maybe the clocks are a little weird. I can't sleep without all the ticking, though -- or the chiming of the grandfather clock. LOL.
I am desperate to get a clock that ticks. Have been for years. But it has to be ... wait a minute, I could include this in my weird list!
Love the 1984/Animal Farm quote.
[Damn! I'll get this typo-free eventually!]
Dear Serena, with respect, I don't see anything weird about the "weird things" you have listed about yourself. I must, therefore, disqualify and recuse myself from participating, as I clearly have no credible judgment about what is or isn't weird. Thanks, though, for the invitation, which I appreciate in the spirit of friendship. All good on you, forward and outward, to overrunning cup, now and always.
Liz, look for a wind-up clock with a pendulum -- it's going to tick. You may have to shop antique stores to find one these days, but they can be found. Or you could go with a grandfather (or smaller grandmother) clock. Mine ticks so loud it practically bongs. Hope you find one!
Mori, it's most circumspect of you to reserve judgment on the state of my weirdness. I have my moments -- but who doesn't? LOL.
Serena Joy! I just did this. I don't think I can come up with six more weird things this soon. I will tell you, though, that I also learned to read at a similar age, but it wasn't comics. It was Playboy. My grandfather owned a bar, and I used to sleep in a closet off the kitchen while my mom worked. He had a stack of them in there, and I had nothing else to do.
I was afraid it was the same one, Lesia. Sorry about that. Playboy, huh? LOL. My grandaddy used to read those "True Detective" magazines, and I'd get into them. That may explain why I like crime fiction so much.
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