Not to be confused with "bruised by basil", "socked by sage" or "pummeled by paprika". Tarragon has tagged me, and in good blog form I must respond. So, in no particular order, here they are:
I confess... funyuns with chunky peanut butter and a tall glass of milk equates one of the finest snack food combinations in the free world. (No, I'm not kidding, and I don't care if you think it's disgusting.)
I confess... at the ripe old age of 35, I still play with Legos. A lot.
I confess... becoming ordained was an extremely special and life-altering event to me not for any religious significance, but because of the other people involved.
I confess... when I was four years old, I was convinced I was an alien because I was so different from everyone else in my class. I could read.
I confess... art school was the best and the worst experience mainly because it was then that I discovered that I wasn't as good as everyone had been telling me I was. I finally had to work at it.
There you go. Tidbits aplenty for your dining and dancing enjoyment.
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2 comments:
Ooooh I remember that alien child in the class feeling too. Sadly, I was still one of only two students who could read when I reached my graduating year. My other classmates seemed particularly ignorant of the significance of the full stop.
Tarragon - I'm sorry you had that feeling too. I'm sure many kids do, for one reason or another, but it's just not fun. There are still times that I wait for the mothership, but that's a whole different thing. :)
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