I’ve been tagged by: http://pettypieces.blogspot.com/ and on this occasion the tagging involves telling you six things about myself. So, prepare yourself for a few self-indulgent me facts!
I believe in reincarnation and I think it’s probably likely that I drowned in a past life. The reason behind this thought process is my irrational fear of water covering my face. Of course I wash my face and I am not against water touching my face, but what I do protest against is having zilch control of water spurting out onto my face, or submerging my face into deep water.
I am a little embarrassed to admit this (hey, we're all friends in blog world) but certain showers send shivers down my spine, showers where you can not detach the shower head. If I’m staying in a hotel or at a friends house that I have never stayed in before, one of the first things I do is check out the shower situation. My heart will sink if I spy a non-detachable shower head.
I discovered this fear in my cousin's garden when a garden hose was let loose in my face. Boy, did I scream and cry. I was about five at the time but the unpleasant memory has stayed with me and I still hate water splashing in my face, it panics me. I try to justify this water situation with the possibility that I drowned in a former life and this trauma has stayed in my subconsciousness. Otherwise I’m an odd ball.
I am a day dreamer. I love to escape into my day dream world. Sometimes my head and my imagination are in another galaxy far, far away - a bit like Star Wars! This is all very well but it can interrupt or over lap into real life. Sometimes I’ll be so caught up in a day dream that I will forget where I am going or what I am doing. It has been known for me to suddenly realise I should be in the real world and I’ve missed a vital piece of information or I’ve left my belongings behind. I’ve simply got up and walked away from my bag/purse/book/umbrella/scarf. Life can be expensive if you’re a day dreamer, not to mention a little confusing.
I look forward to the day immensely when I become a mum. Although having said this, I worry that I’ll leave it too late for my biological clock (tick, tick, can you hear it ticking away?!) or there will be complications and having children will not be possible. This thought really scares me. I know I will be devastated if I can’t have kiddies and I’m not sure how I will cope if I’m told this. I do hope this is an unnecessary fear and one day I will have a mini me roaming this planet - may God help us! A mini me to love and teach and look after.
I once invented a friend called Brenda Gender. My best friend at the time was friends with another girl who she used to talk about constantly, and I regret to admit I was rather jealous. Don’t you just hate that green eyed monster? I was young and naive at the time. These days I rarely have a jealous mood or a jealous bone in my body. In fact, I despise that jealous emotion. It can eat away at you and cause painful, gaping holes which you might question if they will ever mend again.
Anyway, I pretended to have a friend called Brenda Gender and I began to talk about her and all the fun we had together. How childish, but then again I was a child at the time who had a lot of growing up to do. To this day I’m not sure if my friend believed me?! She either thought my friend had a very strange name or that I was a very strange person to invent a fictional person, with a very strange name.
If clumsiness was the same as lightening, it has struck me far too many times. I have fallen through a pane of glass, cut my hand open with a scalpel, fallen to the ground/into things so many times that I have sprained ankles, pulled ligaments, permanently damaged nerve endings, broken heels, ruined clothing and generally humiliated myself. Kermit the frog once sang It's Not Easy Being Green. My song would be It's Not Easy Being Clumsy.
Since as long as I’ve had an imagination it’s been a very vivid imagination and maybe a little dark. Often it is pitch dark.
I own folders full of stories that I have written to amuse myself. They began as love stories in my tender teenage years. But not your typical, happy ending love story. Oh no, these love stories were from my imagination, therefore disaster strikes and the hand of fate is not a successful hand. Not long ago, I stumbled across another folder filled with stories written in my 20’s. Characters hanged themselves, suffered with abusive, alcoholic mothers, lost their relations as a result of food poisoning, became paralysed due to a motorway accident, said goodbye to their sanity through drug addiction, etc etc. After reading the folder I couldn’t help feeling a tad depressed. Had I not written the stories myself, I would have questioned the writers frame of mind and perhaps thought they needed therapy for a deep rooted problem with death and destruction!
I think that’s maybe why I try to keep things light on FPE. Life can be hard enough without sombre and sad thoughts from me, causing manic depression to my readers! Don’t worry FPE readers, I am always in awe that people out there actually bother to read drivel that I have written and to leave a comment, so I’ll try not to let you down and leave you feeling down!
I tag anyone who reads this and wished to indulge. Especially:
Picture of the day:
Seeing as this tag is all about me, here is a picture of me. It's also in preparation for Halloween tomorrow. Do I look scared? No? Maybe I should of read one of my 'love' stories first!