Sarah tagged me the other day. I usually ignore this sort of thing - blog tagging is on par with those surveys your friends send you where you have to answer questions like, what kind of underwear are you wearing right now? or, if you were an animal, what animal would you be? or that creepy Tibetan forward with the music where you have to figure out which colors remind you of which friends, and in the end it's revealed that the way you feel about coffee is actually the way you feel about sex - but lets face it, I haven't posted anything in a long time, so here goes:
* Link to the person that tagged you.
* Post the rules on your blog.
*Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
*Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. [I am breaking this rule. It ends here. I'm not afraid of seven years of bad luck, or whatever]
*Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
1) Lately I've picked up the absentminded habit of putting non-recyclables in our recycling box, such as my breakfast cereals, and one time, my shoes. But Sarah, just to clarify, that guy we got a building-wide memo about who tried to recycle a bowling ball? NOT ME.
2) I consider laundry to be a competitive sport. Or better yet, a reality show: there are winners, and there are losers, and I'm there to win. Don't smile at me, or make small talk - I know the game, and you're just trying to distract me from my spin cycle so you can sneak your stuff in the empty dryer I've been eyeing.
3) I don't respond to e-queries that I'm not interested in. This is because at least 1 in every 5 writers e-mails me back to argue with my form letter, or to ask indignantly, "did you actually read my query?" and I have this stupid urge to write back and say something like "Read it? Your query and I have run off and joined the circus together. We are very happy. I hope you find similar fulfillment." Clearly, this is a vicious cycle that must be avoided, and I can't always trust my professionalism to win out over my idiotic creative impulses.
4) If I had a cheese characteristic, it would probably be, as Sarah suggested, tangy or spicy. But I wish it were smooth.
5) At least once a week my husband and I have an argument about who is "the funny one" in our relationship. Contrary to what you might think, these arguments are never funny.
6) I live in an up-and-coming neighborhood, which means that everything is under construction. Consequently, we have no sidewalk, and the city has barricaded half a lane of traffic off for pedestrian use. When it rains, this walkway completely floods, and you have to balance on the barricade, and leap from dry spot to dry spot, trying not to jump into a) other pedestrians, b) their dogs, c) their baby strollers, d) their abandoned groceries, e) the fire hydrant. (My husband has jumped into the fire hydrant twice). It's been like this for over a year. I still think it's a pretty fun obstacle course, and secretly think it's lame that everyone calls 311 to complain.