You thought this post was about Kevin Jonas, didn't you?
Nope. It's about how I'm relatively new to the bloggy/twitter world. A newbie, really. But I've always secretly coveted one of those invitations to participate in some cool meme. It seemed so deliciously insider-y. You like me! You really like me!
And now (excuse me while I sniff back tears) I've actually gotten my very first one.
My friend Becky Sain just sent me this:
What is it, you ask? Why, it's an invitation to be part of a cool meme! I only have to "do a post where I ha(ve) to reveal three things about myself that no one (or hardly anyone) knows." Now I happen to have noticed that Becky was tagged by Judy, who cut the list down from seven things to three. I was originally going to compromise and do five. But who am I kidding? A chance -- nay, an actual, bona fide invitation -- to talk about myself? I'm going for all seven. (Number eight, by the way, would be, "I really really really like to talk about myself.")
I hope you're sitting down. And taking notes. Here we go.
1. I feel incredibly awkward wearing any kind of name tag, particularly the sticker ones where you have to write your name yourself. If I'm given one to wear, I usually try to see if I can get away without putting it on. If the powers that be insist, I slap it on my pants. But something about having my name sprawled across my chest, especially in my own handwriting, really creeps me out.
2. I have surprisingly strong opinions about seemingly inconsequential design matters like fonts and wrapping paper. It actually bums me out when people I like send an invitation or a holiday card with a font I find unattractive. (My favorite font, should you, say, want to make me a birthday card next year, is Bickham. But only the top version, in green; the others are way too swirly.) And I will actually go to another store rather than buy wrapping paper I don't think is pretty, even if it's just something that's going to be torn to shreds and thrown away. I care, people. I care.
3. I am (ahem) over 40 (but just barely!) and I have never been skiing or camping. I don't ski because I have a) a strange fear of not being in control of my feet and b) a pain-in-the-ass medical condition known as Raynaud's phenomenon, which can make being outside in frigid weather for extended periods of time truly unbearable for my hands and feet. The camping I'll blame on my parents, who instilled a love of many wonderful things, like classical music and books. We're Jewish intellectuals from New York. Sleep outside? Appreciate the outdoors? Not so much.
4. I absolutely loathe parties that also include the sale of anything, even the "There's no pressure! Really! Just come drink wine!" ones. If there will be orders taken for cutesy kitchen gadgets, pocketbooks, jewelry, or organic home cleaning products, don't wait up for me. (This one isn't entirely a secret any more because I posted it in a Facebook list of things I hate. But I thought it bore repeating.)
5. I have a soft spot for the rumpled, vaguely college professor-y older man. He's pushing 70, but I still think Sam Waterston is sexy. And I've long had a thing for Newsweek's Evan Thomas.
6. As a kid, I was obsessed with the paranormal, and one of my first career ambitions was to be a parapsychologist. (The others were writer and anthropologist, for those keeping track at home.) I've lost the obsession but still maintain a wholly out-of-character firm belief in things like ghosts and psychics. I'm also ridiculously superstitious.
7. I am the furthest (farthest?) thing from a Luddite you could imagine. But I insist on having a paper calendar rather than an electronic one. I also don't own a Blackberry or an iPod. Which means that if I'm blogging or tweeting, you can picture me doing so in a room with four walls, with my butt planted firmly on a chair. Refreshing, isn't it?
I also really like the smell of hardware stores, don't like onions or chicken on pizza, have been to Ukraine and...Oh wait. It's time to stop now, isn't it?
OK. Now, part of the fun is that I'm passing on the fleurs and the obligation to post about them to some bloggy friends, who must in turn pass it on. And apologies if this is something you've already done, like, years ago; I'm new at this, remember? Be gentle.
My taggees, in random order:
1. Brenna of The Real Bean, who I hope isn't too uncomfortably pregnant to play along!
2. Max Weiss of Hey I'm Maxthegirl, my compadre in all things Long Island, cello and pop culture
3. Ashley of Ashley, Unscripted. If there's a wittier pharmacist on earth, I've yet to meet her.
4. Wendi Aarons, who regularly makes me spit out my coffee
5. Laura Zigman, from whom I may have been separated at birth
6. Julie Klam, whose hilarious memoir I am in the middle of.
7. Brian Shields of Dada-ism, in hopes it will get him to blog again. :-)
Ready? Set? Go!
Monday update: Anyone who would like to play along and share some things about themselves in the comments is more than welcome! It's like a revelation free-for-all around here. Yeeeeeehah!