25 Random Things About Me

Well, I've been tagged again to publish 25 Random Things About Me.  At first, I was going to simply come up with 9 things and tack it onto the 16 Random Things About Me that I was published earlier this year as a result of being "tagged" on facebook.  But I got to thinking that maybe that was a little lame and that surely I could come up with 25 new ones.  So here they are:

1.  I was selected to be the Main Angel in the school Christmas pageant in 2nd grade at Messiah Lutheran School.  When my mom got the note that was sent home to tell her what costume she had to make, she was so shocked that her mischievious little redheaded girl was an angel that she actually called my 2nd grade teacher to make sure it wasn't a mistake or a joke.

2.  I am very afraid of spiders in the house, but not in the yard.  My irrational default position is that every spider I see might be a brown recluse and I freak out.  In fact, at one point, the folks who ran the hyperbariac unit at Baptist Hospital had to sit me down and show me the difference between common wolf spiders and brown recluses . . . because I worked in the marketing department a couple of floors beneath them at the time and I kept bringing spiders up to their unit in Ziploc baggies, scared outta of my mind.

3.  Speaking of liking being in the yard, I completed the Master Gardener program at my local agriculture extension service about 10 years ago.

4.  I talk to myself out loud when I'm concentrating really hard.

5.  I am extremely right-handed.  I can't even snap my fingers with my left hand.  They should have telethons for people like me.

6.   I hate folding laundry with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.  If I were obscenely wealthy, I would never sit on the couch and pair up socks from the laundry basket again.  I'd just wear them once and throw them away.

7.  I kiss my pets on the mouth.  I know . . . . eeeewwww!  But at least I KNOW where they've been, which is more than many of my friends can say about the lips that they'll kiss!

8.  I have 2 sisters and we are all 3 so different that it is like we are from different planets.  I was never very close to my older sister growing up . . . .she's 4 and a half years older.  But now, she is one of my favorite people and we are very close.  She has impeccable ethics, a good heart, and juggles more irons in the fire with more grace than just about anyone I know.   She is just an amazingly GOOD person and very honest.  And she is the mother of my only niece and my children's only cousin.

9.  I prefer not to eat mushrooms if I can avoid them.  I don't mind the taste at all . . .  it's that I've never really been able to get past the fact that someone told me in my childhood that you shouldn't eat mushrooms because "frogs pee on them."

10.  My grandfather thought I could do no wrong.  I was clearly his pet, as unfair as that was to my sisters and older cousins.  The story goes that he kissed my photo every night before he went to bed.  After he died, my mom gave me his wallet with my photo in it, his watch, and his tobacco pouch and pipe.  Throughout my life, whenever things have gotten realllllllly tough, I've pulled out the tobacco pouch, opened it up for just a minute, and taken in a big sniff.  It's  been over 30 years (he died when I was young), but it still smells like Granddaddy and always makes me feel better.  He only finished 3rd grade in rural Mississippi, but was a whiz with math and my mom says she would have NEVER passed college algebra without him.  He was a home builder and a good man.

11.  My mother signed me up with a local modeling agency when I was in 6th or 7th grade.  I guess she had a hankering to be a stage mom.  Anyway, I was hired for two jobs, both for Fred's Discount Stores.  I was featured with an older gentleman in a store poster for Father's Day and a television commercial where I was wearing the precursor to the infamous Snuggie/Slanket.  Please God, don't let THAT be my 15 minutes of fame . . . .

12.  I've only told three men in my life (other than male relatives or platonic friends) that I've loved them, one of whom is my husband.  I think words count and I've never been capricous with telling people that I love them.

13.  I served as the Chaplain for my local Mothers of Multiples group one year.  I wrote a monthly devotional/inspirational message for the members and served as the contact person if someone in the group needed special help.  I was always really flattered when members would tell me that they'd actually read my column and it meant something to them.  The one that got the most comments is here:  http://nowthatsjustcrazytalk.blogspot.com/2009/01/fathers-there.html

14.  My mom also went through a stage where she entered me into beauty pageants.  I was the first runner-up for Little Miss Memphis one year.  Again . . . Please GOD, don't let THAT be my 15 minutes of fame.

15.  The first thing my mom said to me backstage following college graduation was "I can't believe I got you through college and you haven't been to jail."

16.  I am actually a member of Mensa.  No, I'm not joking.  Got the card in the wallet and everything!  I joined one year as a Mother's Day present for my mom.  She had known I qualified from test scores in elementary school, but I'd never actually agreed to sign up and she wanted me to do so.  It is actually not quite as impressive as it sounds . . . . 2 out of every 100 people qualify and the percentage is probably much higher in the group of folks reading this (facebook, according to marketing research on social networking sites, has a much larger number of college graduates than competing sites).   In fact, I think most of my good friends are every bit as intelligent as I supposedly am . . . so if you are reading this, there's a good chance that you'd qualify if that means anything to you.   I actually think that I am much more unique because I was born with 12 toes, and I had just about as much to do with THAT as I did having an IQ meriting Mensa membership.  My offspring also qualify, but they don't need to know that just yet.

17.  I don't have any tattoos, although I seriously considered getting one for my 40th birthday last year.  My first name is Melissa, named after my dad Mel.  The name "Melissa" means "honeybee" and that is what I was considering getting inked on my bod in an inconspicous place.  I've had a tumultous year, with several significant situations requiring me to make decisions that would be far-reaching.  I have often wished that I could ask my Dad what he thought this year and that's how the idea for the tattoo came about.  I still haven't done it; but I haven't ruled it out completely either.

18.  I still harbor ill feelings for my 7th grade teacher,  Mr. Gienapp.  I know it's time to move on, but I'm still hoping he gets a rash one day that won't quite go away and causes him to want to scratch himself in public in inappropriate places.  Why?  Our class had to write a 5 paragraph mini-term paper on a book we had chosen.  I had become enthralled with my older's sister's copy of Sir Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur and really got into the whole King Arthur thing.  I kind of went overboard and ended up comparing the treatment of the characters of Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot in that book versus Once and Future King (T.H. White) and Idylls of the King (Alfred Lord Tennyson).  Or maybe I read Mallory's book first . . . . anyway, I read all three like a child possessed.  I turned in my paper and my teacher gave me a "C."  He said that I couldn't have written it, which would have deserved an "F" for plagarism, but since he couldn't prove I didn't write it and it was good, he'd settle for a "C."  My dear, and usually very shy, mom went ballistic.  She marched up to the principal's office after talking to Mr. Gienapp and argued my case.  Somehow they decided that a "B" would be okay.   I've never understood why people underestimate what children can do when they are really interested.  Thumbs up for Mom.  Thumbs down for Mr. Gienapp.

19.  Obviously, I hold grudges.  Not a good thing.  The flip side of that coin is that I'm incredibly loyal and if I actually give a damn about you, I will probably care about you and your welfare for as long as I live.  In fact, I'd probably come to your defense or help you out long past when you might think I've forgotten about you or wouldn't care enough to step up.

20.  Generally speaking, I swallow my gum.

21.  I like crossword puzzles a lot.

22.  More often than not, I burn the bread with dinner.

23.  I am so nearsighted, that if we were living in Biblical times, I'd have been put outside the temple with a cup in my hand.  My prescription is a minus 10.  Personally, having married a pretty nearsighted person as well, I'm actually shocked that my children weren't born with the ability to use echolocation or antennae on their heads.

24.  I always say that the most honest people I know are about 3 feet tall . . . and I'm not talking about dwarfs.  I love the honesty of small children.  Seriously, don't ask a three year old what they think unless you really, really want to know!  LOL!

25.  I am very protective of my friends . . . goes back to the loyalty thing!

Father's There

From "Multiple Appeal," the newsletter of the Memphis Area Mothers of Multiples (June 2004 issue)
Chaplain's Corner column

This is my first Father's Day without my Dad, who died last summer in a car accident.  As I think about the upcoming holiday, a childhood memory keeps coming back to me.

I remember the summer I learned to swim at the East Memphis YMCA.  I was wiry, spunky, and took to water like the "Minnow" my class was called.  I'd been eyeing the big kids and the high dive for weeks and decided to stake my claim and climb that ladder.  I waited until just the "right" moment . . . until Dad had come to pick me up and was watching from the other side of the fence.

Then I got cold feet.  Standing on the diving board, looking way, way, WAY down, I started questioning if I really wanted to do this or not.  Or more truthfully, was I too scared to do it?  My father said something along the lines of :  "If you're going to do it, do it.  But don't be scared."

Did I jump off of the diving board or did I negotiate my way back down that ladder?  That's not the point.  The point is that Dad was letting me know that as my father, he didn't want me to let fear keep me from doing what I wanted to do . . .  but that he wasn't going to climb that ladder and get my scrawny booty outta trouble either.  He would let me figure out what I had to do with his watchful eye over me.

God's like that sometimes, I think.  Like Dads here on Earth, our Heavenly Father watches over us, even if He chooses not to always deliver us immediately from the messes of our own making.  He wants us to have the courage to exercise the choices we know are best in our lives and the faith to know that He is three for us all the time.

Just like our dear old Dads.