Six

In one of those twisty full of fate, six degrees, first in chicken or egg kind of turn of events I met a new blogger buddy face to face before I ever read her blog. The sterling personality behind Blog Antagonist, as it happens, is a very good friend of my friend Nina, who I met in blog land some time ago. Nina invited me to a dinner when she was in Chicago last summer, that is when and where I met BA. Dinner was a blast, full of fun and lively conversation.

My new blogger buddy, BA has tagged me to share six unimportant factoids about myself and I’m happy to play along with one exception, I won’t tag anybody else, but if you are so inclined, go for it.
Six things:
1. Pierced. As in, my ears are pierced. The first piercings took place the summer before 6th grade. My mom paid a neighbor-lady a few bucks and a six pack of beer to torture numb my ears with ice cubes and stab me with a large sewing needle. The first ear went rather quickly, considering. The second, not so much. Hours later she finally got my ear numb enough to stick the needle all the way through without me squirming too much. I’m sure that’s why that hole is on an angle. Putting earrings in that ear used to be a trial. I’m an old hand at it now though.
The second set was one of those mall jobbies with the gun, in and out in seconds. It is the second set though, that gives me the most trouble, re: irritation when I keep earrings in for any length of time.

2. Purses. I have two, one tan the other black. Functional, multi-pocketed, inexpensive quasi-necessary evils. As you may have guessed, I don’t like purses. I do however like bags, so long as they don’t give the illusion of purses.

3. Dresses and skirts. I don’t own any, ergo, I don’t wear any. I did once upon a time as my mom & ex-husband would buy them for me. They both favored big bold floral printed shitty vibrant designs. All of which I made me want to puke. To stem the proliferation of the botanic garden in my closet I made a few select purchases which I didn’t like much but at least wouldn’t make me lose my lunch. Eventually, my mom caught on and stopped. The ex continued until he was, well, ex. One by one each garment found homes in other closets. My slacks had a party to celebrate.

4. Make-up, you know where this is going by now, don’t you? No, of course I don’t wear make-up. When I remember, I apply lip balm and when I know I’m going to be kissing Neta, lip gloss, because she likes it, but otherwise, no. Ages ago my step-mother tried to teach me about make-up. She gave me up as a lost cause, wagging her finger at me, telling me that one day I’d want to care more about foundation, eyeliner and the like. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation since.

5.I like the color blue, every shade of blue. I don’t care for pastels much but I can handle pale blue. I have a lot of blue in my wardrobe. A lot. There is also a lot of black. For the past few years my daughter has been nagging asking me to try expanding my wardrobe to include a wider range. My first stabs were disastrous in her view, but progress, I believe is being made.

6. I can’t commit my cell phone number to memory. I’ve had it for nearly 4 months and I just cannot remember the number. True, I don’t dial it and I don’t give it out often, but still….