Eins, Zwei, Drie, Vier...

My pal, Chris tagged me. I'm about to tell you five things about me that no one knows. I've been writing here for two years and some change, so I'm not sure there's much about me to tell that isn't a little odd. With that warning, here we go...

1. I can vividly remember being potty trained. I was probably one and a half to two years old. I remember my Mom sitting me on the toilet and singing: "Tinkle, tinkle little star..." I remember the feeling that I knew she wanted me to do something, but I had no idea what it was. I always enjoyed her singing.
   
2. I used to make my right hand and my left fight for the right to color. I was probably about two or three. I believe I did this because I have crossed dominance, that is, I write with my right hand, I kick with my left foot, I aim with my left eye, yet I shoot right-handed (I've had to learn how to aim right-eyed). At any rate, I would have to referee fights between my left and right hands, before I could even begin to color.
   
3. I've never cut school, except for one time. I left my band uniform at home and we had to perform for a school assembly in the afternoon. So, after band, I jumped into my 1979 Firebird and sped the 2 miles home to get it.
   
4. When I was 10, I went to the Y's horse camp for three days. I was very excited to hop on a horse and ride with the wind. When it comes to speed, I am fearless: downhill skiing, driving, etc. Usually, I jump at the chance to go very fast, which I certainly had the opportunity to do at horse camp. However, I got stuck with an appaloosa mare named Babycakes, of all things. She was huge and grumpy and I was truly intimidated by Babycakes. Especially after she stepped on my foot and stood on it for about a minute and a half, while I beat on her hind quarters with my little fists. I spent the duration of camp volunteering for stable duty instead of riding.
   
   A side note, I have a boney bump on the outside edge of each foot and at the end of my row of toes. This makes it look like I'm missing a toe on each foot, because it looks like there's room for one more. The camp counselor who examined my foot thought it was broken, but that's just the way my foot was shaped. It didn't really hurt that bad; I was wearing sturdy cowboy boots after all. But I didn't want to ride that bitch, so I faked that my injury was worse than it was and they let me hang out in the stables by myself most of the time.
   
5. Elizabeth knows this, but maybe you all don't. About 12 years ago, I faked it at a seance once. I based all my communications from beyond on tiny details I knew about everyone in the room that they probably forgot they even told me. I really freaked everyone out and I didn't come clean about it til this past year.

Sheesh. I'm a huge faker.

I tag Elizabeth. I owe her one for being such a good sport and not kickin my ass over the seance thing.