How to waste the next four minutes of your life...

... Otherwise known as "Eleven Facts about Me."

Apparently, there’s a new disease circulating around the blogosphere – filthy blog pox. I caught it from Dave. To get rid of it, you have to post eight random things about yourself.

Random fact number one: I am egotistical enough to a) have a blog and b) think you care enough about my personal life to read the following seven facts. Or, maybe you don’t care, and you’re just bored. If so, you and I have a lot in common.

2) I know you think I spend all of my time writing for free out of the goodness of my heart, but I’m quite the mercenary and enjoy writing for money much more than writing for the thrill of a blog comment here and there. I do a lot of home design work – one of my latest is this amazing firetower.

3) I am terrified of white bread. As a small child, my mother found my phobia odd. Convinced I would like it the more she tried to make me eat, she would shovel it into my mouth without abandon (also without awareness as to whether or not I was actually swallowing). I think I choked a few times, and it scarred me. My older sister, who undoubtedly watched all this while rubbing her hands together in fiendish glee, used to chase me around the house with bread for fun. Or was it for torture? Either way, also scarring. Then, I grew up. And my friends in high school and college who discovered my fear would cover my car in the filthy stuff – windshield, door handles, everything – at which point I was reduced to a (walking) blob of bread-centered neurosis.

4) While I can't eat white bread, I can eat Mexican food everyday of my life … and often do. Sometimes for breakfast. Now, I could leave this random fact at that, but like the doting dog-mother that I am, I'll use any excuse to talk about Buddy, or "Doggie" as my mom calls him when she forgets his name, which is usually every time we talk.

The other night, I was sitting on my bed eating a plateful of chicken enchiladas, rice and beans. I mean, I was sitting properly at the kitchen table. Who eats in bed? Gross. Anyway, to the right of my plate was a Kleenex with the evidence of my three-week long cold/strep throat/personal hell (otherwise known as impressively large snot globules). Doggie walked up, sniffed my plate for a second, and shot me a look that says, “You’re going to eat THAT.” As I sat there, reflecting on the fact that my culinary sensibilities were being judged by a creature who frequently licks where the sun don't shine for fun, Doggie grabbed the tissue and swallowed it whole. Obviously, he is not a fan of Mexican food, which I’ll remember when planning the menu for his next birthday party.

5) Speaking of parties, I haven’t always given my dogs birthday parties, but we always gave them Christmas presents, which leads me to the fact that…

6) I never believed in Santa, or sat on his lap in a mall. Actually, I think my parents tried to make me once, but I told him he wasn’t real. Also, I told all of my little friends he wasn’t real. I got coal in my stocking one year. No one was surprised.

7) I was homeschooled for eight years, at which point I transitioned into a private high school where I got into exorbitant amounts of trouble, so my parents decided to ship me off to a (tiny) strict, Christian school for homeschooled kids just outside Washington, DC. I don’t want to make it sound like I was forced, though. They gave me options: it was that or one of those boot camps for rebellious teens. Being the academic that I am, I chose the former.

8) Until college, I had only made one “B” in my life. It was in penmanship. I cried, a lot. When I made a couple more in college, I cried again. Bonus: I can cry on command. Useful for getting out of a speeding ticket, making a man feel uncomfortable and panicky, or cleaning out your tear ducts.

Overachiever that I am, and to be sure I’m properly immunized, your facts now come with 37% more bonus randomness:

9) I love wit and sarcasm. If you can banter with me, you’ll be my friend for life. In conjunction, I love Stephen Colbert; I hate The Office.

10) I’m a pastor’s kid and grew up thinking I would marry a pastor. Speaking of marriage, I broke the “family code” by not marrying at 22. This bothers my mother greatly because she fears I’ll become a bitter old maid. It bothers my father because he wants me off the family’s phone plan.

11) I’m heading to Atlanta to volunteer with kids over the next six months, after which I’ll need either a job or a husband. I’ll be accepting suggestions for both over the coming months.

Now, I’m off to infect Paco, Becky, and Liberty Drum and see if they’ll play, too.


  1. Do you need a husband or a potential husband?

    There's a difference.. it's subtle, but it's there..

  2. Ok, I'm going to play.

    I have a question, though. Are you taking "applications" or "suggestions." I might be prepared to submit depending upon the answer.

    My remaining questions/comments will be addressed when I post later...


  3. Dave - I'll put it this way. If he's got potential, I'll make him my husband.

    William - Originally, I planned on taking applications, then I realized that I might have female readers who would like to elect their brothers, sons, etc., hence "suggestions." Respond as you see fit.

  4. Noted. Response coming. You are something else. Not sure what yet, but definitely something else...


  5. Have you ever dated Allahpundit? I don't think there is much danger of marriage there but your Mom doesn't have to know.
    When I first read your blog I found it attractive that someone in their twenties respected her parents as much as you do. But having read much more of your blogging I see that is just one of many competing tendencies. But complicated is also interesting.

  6. Thanks for tagging me, Suzanna! I actually enjoy this sort of thing. I have to wait until tonight to post, however, because the yankee government that employs me takes a dim view of blogging while at work, and I can't take a chance on them finding out that the diligent fellow in the business suit is, in rality. Zorro.

  7. In "reality", rather.

  8. Anonymous18.5.09

    Since I do know your father, I would know number 10 to be pretty correct concerning the phone plan. But alas, your mother, my dear Aunt has nothing to fear since I your older and wiser cousin from the north decided marriage was over rated and I waited till I was 34! Alas, your Dad, my dear Uncle may have to wait a while longer so he might as well add minutes to the phone plan!

  9. Suzanna, have I taught you nothing? You are a beautiful, intelligent, ready to throw down for a Jell-O wrestling match woman. You don't need a husband, just yet.

    The white bread thing is a little weird. I have to admit. I'm tempted to torment you with this little tid-bit when we meet up in Hotlanta this summer.

    I share your enjoyment of Mexican food, although I like to wash it down with tequila. I don't eat it everyday, but I'm starting to realize that's how I transition from winter to summer: spring equals Mexican food!

    I think that's about it. I would have infected you, but I knew that you had already been infected.

  10. Who Is Allahpundit?

  11. I linked you and answered up. Fun exercise.

  12. I never consider my time reading what you post wasted time.

    Potential husbands with potential:
    [1] I have a nephew you might consider if a younger guy with the potential of being a life-long student appeals to you. You might check him out while your doing God’s work in Atlanta this summer because his parents live just north of there in Canton.
    [2] That nephew, Max, has a younger brother, Tanner, who sadly seems to have the potential of being a life-long drug addict. He’s currently in jail over there and could certainly use some wise guidance from an attractive lady like you. Unless he gets his head on straight he’s not a good potential husband for anyone, or even a potential human worth anything to anyone.

  13. Better them than me! I just survived taking my four year old to the dentist...