Oh, Joy. A Meme.
While I was offline with power cord problems (and therefore unable to delete the comment in time), Anne at LifePundit tagged me with a “Seven Random Facts About Me” meme.
Really, when it comes to memes, I don’t know why we call it “tagging”. It feels more like being ambushed, especially when you read a cheery little “Hi, you’ve been tagged!” comment before finishing your first cup of coffee. But I like Anne, so I figure I’ll play along. Here goes:
1. I absolutely despise memes… unless I’m the one who created them.
2. The toenails on my right foot are red right now, but the toenails on my left foot are bare. Although the last time I sat down to paint my toenails was Monday, I just noticed this.
3. My Sleep Number is 45.
4. I need another cup of coffee.
5. I have to pee.
6. There is a sign by my doorbell that reads “NO drop ins. NO solicitors.” Not one damn person every pays attention to it, so now when someone drops by I now open the door, point to the sign, and slam the door in their face. I don’t feel guilty about this at all.
7. My favorite number is 5.
Now I’m supposed to tag other bloggers whom I barely know, which means I get to randomly annoy relative strangers. Now that is something I don’t mind doing in the least bit, so here’s the list:
Cree Tees
Explicityly Ambiguous
The Kiser Speaks
Ironically, not a one of them has updated this month so at some point perhaps they’ll find out they’ve been ambushed, too!
Solicitors! Feh.
We had a solicitor knock on our door as we were on our way out one evening. We had our coats on, keys in hand, kid in the carseat and were clearly on our way out. But this dude didn’t pay any attention and just started his spiel. I interrupted him to tell him we were on our way out and he said, “I just need a moment of your time…” I said, “No you don’t, we’re leaving.” At which point I turned to Beau and said go on to the car (he had the baby) and I pushed the dude back as I stepped out to lock the front door.
Unbelievably he continued his spiel while this all happened. I said, “I don’t mean to sound rude, but you need to stop talking. We’re leaving.” That’s when he finally stopped. Feh.
Definitely rude. I’m so paranoid I’d be too worried to tell him we were leaving (even if it was obvious) for fear he might turn to burglary to supplement what’s no doubt a bad door-to-door income.
Hmmm, didn’t think of that and I’m pretty paranoid. Thanks. =)
Weren’t you supposed to email me or leave a comment or something? And having done two “about me” posts, the last tag from Anwyn, mine is liable to look a lot like yours when I get around to it. (And I ain’t tagging nobody. Whoever wants to play can.)
Yeah, I probably should’ve left a comment letting you know you’d been ambushed. I got a little distracted. Sorry about that.