6 things.

I got tagged by Beth to do this 6 (random) things about me meme. I love getting tagged for things like this. It makes me feel a part of the group. Also, it was serendipitous (and I love serendipitous) because I’m suffering from total blog writer’s block this week and was getting worried I’d have to write something tense and odd about how politicians are really starting to annoy the heck out of me with their recent behavior and arguments over all these stimulus/bailout packages—do not they not know the country is headed straight for hell in a handbasket?? Stop arguing and DO something, people!

They’re beginning to make me feel like I do on airplanes that have hit turbulence: I just want to run up to the cockpit, shove the captain aside, and say, “Here. For the love of God. Let ME do it!”

Thank goodness for Beth and fun memes!

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1-I’m drawn to nice, gentle people with a good sense of humor. To me, a “good sense of humor” means you have a healthy sense of irony, a good dose of the irreverent, and an appreciation for the ridiculous. I do not find people who are mean-spirited funny at all. I think people who tell mean-spirited jokes or make fun of other people are lacking something in character. Also, I do not find the phrases “that’s so gay” or “you’re retarded” amusing. And I think there’s a big difference between telling racial jokes and telling racist jokes. Racial jokes, when done well, can be funny and offer important social commentary, leading to healing discussions between various religions and ethnicities. Racist jokes just show you lack sensitivity and class.

2-People who don't sit well with me: angry people; negative people; people who use other people; people who break promises and commitments; excuse-makers; those with a vindictive nature; the arrogant; the deeply selfish and overly self-absorbed; and of course the insensitive or outright racist of the world. When I have to deal with people who fall into any or all of these categories, I get the heebie jeebies for, like, 48-72 hours. People who are angry and vindictive upset me the most. I bitch about these people and my interaction(s) with them to any and all who will listen. And then I begin avoiding these people, at all costs. For example: if I see them coming down a hallway towards me, I turn right around and go the other way. If I have to communicate with them, I use email. If I have to interact with them personally, I refuse to make eye contact. I become very sarcastic when their names are mentioned.

2a-I am superior at passive aggressive behavior; do not even attempt to compete with me in this area.

3-I was born in Pennsylvania. When I was 6, my family moved to Oklahoma. This was an exciting adventure for me: my dad and my little brother drove down in his car; my mom and I drove down in hers. We all communicated via CB radio. I got to talk to real! live! truckers! on our CB radio. Then, when I was 8, my family moved to Kentucky. This was socially traumatizing—I was heartbroken over leaving my little friends. I’d always been a quiet child, but suddenly I became painfully shy. I found solace in books—I read anything: chapter books, picture books, biographies, recipe books, cereal boxes, dictionaries. I’m not painfully shy anymore, though I do consider myself an introvert. And to this day, when I find myself in an awkward social situation, the first thing I do is seek out something to bury my nose in.

I’ve also lived in Illinois, where I went to college (it was freaking cold) and Arizona, where I taught for 3 years after college (it was freaking hot). But the place I’ve enjoyed the most is Atlanta. I think I just like the idea of Atlanta more than anything else. The summers have ridiculous humidity + smog and the traffic is just all kinds of wrong. But it’s diverse, and I like diverse. And people here make up nicknames for locations around town. Like Murder Kroger, which is a grocery store where lots of murders have taken place (located on East Ponce, which is located about one block down from the East Ponce police station, which is located two blocks down from the corner where all the crack hos and transvestite prostitutes hang out). Whenever I want to watch interesting people, I leave the suburbs and find a nice observation post somewhere in Midtown Atlanta. And it is AWESOME. Always.

4-I was very dramatic as a child. Once, when I was 5, I woke up from a Saturday nap and discovered my mother had just…LEFT. No note. No nothing. I was ticked. I ran out to the garage where my father was and demanded, “Where did Mommy GO!?!” My dad just shrugged his shoulders; I think he actually had the nerve to get snippy with me, too. And so I immediately knew, just KNEW in my heart of hearts, that my mother had died. Without even consulting me. The rudeness! I spent the rest of the afternoon holding a framed picture of her, sobbing over it, mourning all of the things she would never tell me, never get to do with me.

Later, she came home from her shopping trip and a hairdo appointment. “Mommy!” I remember saying, “Why did you LEAVE me!?!” And she seemed so unworried, so nonchalant about the fact she’d abandoned me, for A WHOLE AFTERNOON. It took the rest of my childhood for me to trust anyone else again.

I also re-enacted entire musicals in my room for my stuffed animals. When I was older, I wrote plays and recruited neighborhood children to perform in them.

4a-I feel these scenarios all indicate I would have made a fabulous actress. But I had parents who said (when I expressed a possible desire to strike out on my own to Hollywood), “What?! That’s CRAZY, Amy. Actresses don’t make money! Lots of times they end up DEAD. Pick something that’s more stable.” If I’d gotten different parents, I am most certain I would have at least one Oscar and/or Golden Globe by now.

4b-when I expressed a desire to write for a living—maybe as a journalist—they said the same thing to me: “What?! That’s CRAZY, Amy. Writers don’t make money! Lots of times they end up DEAD. Pick something more stable.” I’d probably have a National Book Award or a Pulitzer by now had I not listened to them.

4c-I have solemnly promised my child not to squish her dreams due to 4a-b.

5-I’m not a social butterfly. I like social outings, but I don’t actively seek them out unless I’m in the mood. Which is slightly odd, because I do feel a deep need to connect to other people who have common interests and goals. I just don’t feel good when I have too much on my plate. Things that bring me joy are usually solitary pursuits like reading, writing, and solo hikes in quiet wooded areas. I’m okay at making small talk, but I communicate better in writing than I do in person.

My husband, on the other hand, IS a social butterfly. He enjoys being with people and actively seeks social outlets. He likes team sports and he’s really good about calling his friends and staying in touch; he never gets lost in his own head, and he can put almost anyone at ease. He’s a fabulous conversationalist and people automatically like him.

My solitary leanings cause my husband quite a bit of distress occasionally, because he understands my need for alone-ness and quiet but only to a certain point. But I think we have a nice balance: I’ve taught him that people who like to be one within themselves aren’t weird or anti-social on purpose, and he’s taught me which types of situations call for me to get out of my own head.

6- When I was 7, I had a huge crush on Barry Manilow. Later, I loved Michael Jackson. Later, I fell hard for Greg Louganis. Later, I had the hots for Ricky Martin. Three of these men are gay and one is a suspected pedophile.

I bet Sigmund Freud would have a field day figuring THAT out.

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I’m supposed to tag 6 people to do this. But I’m so bad about tagging. I can never choose enough, or I choose too many.

So guess what! I’m tagging EVERYbody! If you want to tell the world 6 random, important things about yourself? Go! Go, go daddy-o!