I was tagged by Gingernut over at Life in the Smoke almost two weeks ago. I just found out, so I’m obviously a little slow on the draw here.

The Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you.
2. Post the rules.
3. Share seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag up to seven people at the end of the post and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each person know that you tagged them.  -- Really? People do that? I’m going to break this rule and let my taggees figure it out in their own time. I was tagged only once before and realized it so piteously late, I rested on the cluelessness clause and pretended it never happened. And if anyone has tried to email me with tagging notification and it got bounced, let me know via comments.

On to the Random and Weird Facts portion of our program:

1. One of the only things in my life I feel regret about: I was a little kid, maybe six years old. I was at the hairdressers waiting while my mom got coiffed. On the table next to me sat an empty fishbowl, and a sign in front of it invited me to enter my name and number to win a trip to Jamaica. I read the small print and saw you had to be 18 to enter. I defiantly filled out a card, and was notified via telephone a few weeks later that I’d won the trip. Knowing that I’d broken the rules by entering a contest I was 12 years too young to win, I forfeited my prize by hanging up the phone in a panic. Stupid, stupid six-year-old!

2. One of the only other things in my life I feel regret about happened when I was maybe about four years old. I had a balloon that had been this wondrous, six-foot, swirly-colored tube, and when it shrunk down to about two-feet in length, I decided it was time to pop it. I had never experienced a balloon popping before, so I was pretty excited about this event. I announced my intention and acquired a tack. My brother John, who was probably six and a half, said, “Don’t pop it! I’ll play with the balloon!” It was my balloon and I wanted it popped, and so I did it. When it was all over in less than a second and I had robbed us both of our toy, I felt regret and it was terrible. To this day, I still hate regret more than any emotion, which might be why I suffer it infrequently, except when I recall the balloon popping incident. I even tried going to confession to rid myself of the guilt several years later, but it didn't work.

3. My Great-Uncle Jack used to play poker with Babe Ruth. Out of sheer coincidence, we found out recently that Steve has a good friend whose great grandfather played in the same circle.

4. I think there’s something wrong with my equilibrium, probably stemming from some kind of ear defect. I get motion sick at the drop of a hat, which leads to frequent vomiting on airplanes even when the flight is relatively smooth. I once had an ear infection that was so raging, it blew out my eardrum. Literally popped my eardrum, as in -- it was gone, and I was deaf and there was a fire-hydrant-like gushing of blood that sprung forth from the fissure. The flow soon slowed to a trickle, and my ear bled for about a week straight; it was like having my period, but it was coming out of my ear. When I went to the E.R., they were calling in doctors for miles to look at this freak case, but that was after they gave me a Percocet and two shots of Demerol. God bless pain killers, because I imagine that (or at least I hope) that whole ordeal was more painful than childbirth. Eardrums grow back, much like tails on salamanders, so I was only deaf in one ear for a month or two.

5. I am a self-improvement junky. I’m always trying to cure my shortcomings. So far this year, I’ve worked on losing weight (lost 15 pounds) and halting procrastination (am mostly finished with my novel). My next project is to learn how to stop being perpetually late, seeing as I have a capricious relationship with time, to say the least. One day, I will be perfect. Wish me luck. ;-)

6. This one's related to number five: I can’t stand aging, and I will do almost whatever it takes -- except surgery -- to stay young-looking. Creams, lotions, lasers: you are my friends. I’m going to be a damn fine 86-year-old with no regrets aside from balloon popping and the like.

7. I’m weird about money, in the hoarding sense. I definitely keep enough around to have a good time, and I will buy Steve a plasma TV whenever we move to a new place. At the same time, I tend to stockpile dough when it comes to the big stuff, like retirement. Maybe that’s not weird, and I'm just being fiscally responsible. Okay, so that one’s a boring fact.

Tag, you’re it!
La over at Rad Fanny

Jess of Du Wax Loolu

Strange Bird runs with scissors

Clink ain’t afraid of heights

Molly has a badass shoe collection

Entertaining honeymooner, a.ka. Unnaturally Blonde