Tagged

I was tagged by a certain Gritty Pretty (the lovely lady wearing red shoes) and now I have to:

1. Link to the person that tagged you
2. Post the rules on your blog
3. Share 6 non-important things/ habits /quirks about yourself
4. Tag at least 3 people at the end of your post and link to their blog
5. Let each person know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog
6. Let the "confessions" begin

. . . because I am IT. I admit that I am a little nervous about this tagging thing. I've seen it a few times on other blogs that I frequent (or as someone told me "blalk" - as in stalk+blog) but now that I have been tagged, I feel all this pressure to out-divulge, outwit, and out tag my predebloggers. At least I know where to start:

1. As per request, my first non-important enigma will be about these. After my sophomore year of high school, my 5 closest friends and I decided to make a list of things to keep us busy and entertained all summer long so that never once the thought, I sure wish school would start so I'd have something to do, would cross our minds. That thought should never be conceived during the glorious, free, sunny summer months. The final list was over 80 things long and one "activity" in particular got a lot of attention. We wore adult diapers, Affirms, to be precise. We bought a 20 pack at Target on sale. (The picture is what we did with the rest of them after I found them upon moving out for college. Decorating diapers has never been so fun). Well not only did we wear them, but we all had to "go" in them. You have no idea how hard it is to force yourself to pee your pants, even when you're mostly sure you'll be protected, and you really have to go. I was the first to "let loose" and the occasion was met with much laughter and hysterics. It was the grossest feeling I have ever experienced and it caused an overwhelming amount of empathy for infants to wash over me. It is no wonder babies cry when they're wet. Eventually we all completed the dirty deed. One friend had to sit on the toilet with her pants on to "trick her mind into thinking she was doing something normal." The only mishap came with one friend who put hers on inside out by mistake and let's just say that the outsides aren't nearly as absorbent as the insides. It got a little messy.

2. I take a picture of my foot at all the places I travel to. I don't know when this started, or why I am so enamored with my incredible toe spread, but I am. I guess the pictures are an easy way to review my trips and laugh about people watching me desperately tear my shoe off, snap a picture, and run half-shoed to catch up with the rest of the group.

3. I have a song stuck in my head. Constantly. Right now it's this.

4. I pride myself in my ability to drive a manual car and I think slightly less of those pathetic souls who can't. I think it makes you a much more valuable member of society if you are able to maneuver a vehicle with a clutch. Plus, it makes racing on State a whole lot more fun . . .

5. As a child I had a recurring dream that a gypsy in the forest taught me magic and I woke up convinced that I was psychic. This lasted until I told my cousins and they tested this theory repeatedly with highly scientific methods of, "how many fingers are behind my back?" or "what card am I holding?" I then realized, sadly, that I am not psychic, nor do I have a gypsy friend (unless you count her).

6. I detest: when people say "on accident" (rather than correctly saying "by accident"), words that have the "oi" sound in them (such as moist and ointment. Oh yuck), and words that end in "sps" (such as wasps and crisps. It makes me feel awkward to say them).

Okay. Hopefully that wasn't subpar. And now . . . you, you, and you are IT!