I Got A Feelin' Called a Meme...

Way back in 2007, you know, last week, Tootsie Farklepants over at Vintage Thirty tagged me for a meme. Is it just a coincidence that meme is me-me? Cause that's what meme's are usually about -- me! Or you, if it's your blog.

So anyway, the theme of this meme (a rhyme!) is 7 Random Things about me. Well, I'm all about multitasking -- hey, I'm a mom. Show me a mom who isn't all about multitasking! -- so I'm going to combine this meme with another installment in my race towards completion of my "100 Things."

Here are the rules for the meme:
Link to the person who tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 facts about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

You know what? For probably only the 2nd or 3rd time in my life, I'm going to break the rules. I'm not tagging anybody. Yeah, I'm being a real rebel. But, there's a rash of memes running around and I don't want anybody accusing me of giving them "the meme," so if you want to be tagged, you can hereby consider yourself tagged.

So here we go:

70. In the summer between 10th and 11th grade (also known as the summer of `89), I spent two weeks in Mure-cho, Japan in a sister city exchange program. I stayed with a family in which only one person spoke English, but it was an amazing experience and I had an opportunity to meet some really great people.

69. I love sushi. In fact, I had my very first sushi while in Japan -- made from a fish I caught! How awesome is that? The only thing I don't like about sushi is wasabi. I really hate it when they hide just a tiny bit of wasabi under your sashimi. Why do they want to go and do that to a girl? Oh, and I really don't like uni, which will forever be known in my mind as "pond scum." Blech.

68. In February of 2002, Mr. Daddy and I spent Mardi Gras in Mamou, Louisana. We drank a beer in Fred's Lounge and I danced with an octogenarian with 10 bras draped around his neck! (and yes, there are pictures!) Mardi Gras in Mamou is VERY different from Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but if you ever get a chance, you MUST go.

67. In December of 1990, right after my parents' divorce, my mom and I spent two weeks at Christmas in Bangkok, Thailand, with my brother, who lived there two years as a missionary. We traveled to Chiang Mai in the mountains and Hua Hin on the coast. Thailand is a beautiful country, but full of contradictions -- beautiful architecture on one corner, leprous amputees on the other.

66. I used to really hate my ears. They stick out a little and in 5th grade we had a picture made using a very dark background. My hair was dark too, and permed of course, and it kind of blended into the background. All you could see was my face an my ears. One of my meaner classmates called me "Dopey" and that was it. I would never, ever, ever wear my hair up or in a ponytail. I was in college before I developed the self confidence to get over myself!

65. I was born with long fingernails and when I was only hours old I scratched my face severely. I wish I could find the picture so you could see what a number I did on myself. In my baby book, my mom noted that I looked like I had been "born and bred in a briar patch." To this day I have a very small scar on my cheek.

64. Once when my brother and I were playing I fell and cut a gash in my eyebrow. In the emergency room the nurse almost shaved my eyebrow in preparation for stitches, but at the last minute the doctor came in and stopped her. He told her that sometimes eyebrows don't grow back. Whew! That was a close one!

63. I ran up and kissed a New York City Fireman who was marching in the Saint Patrick's Day Parade in Savannah, Georgia. This was Mr. Daddy-approved, by the way. It's tradition, in fact!

62. I couldn't whistle until I was in seventh grade. I used to have a very, very, large gap between my front teeth and I think that was the cause. In seventh grade I got braces and immediately learned to whistle.

61. When I was growing up I was always very shy about talking to my mom about stuff, so I would write her a note whenever I felt the need to talk to her about something. She would write me back. It was a good way to communicate, I think. Low pressure. For me AND her!

So there we go. 10 more things.