Posts Tagged ‘CLAIRE DE LUNE’

Okay, so most of my friends probably already know at least some of these things. But it’s a weird, weird world inside my head, and I thought you might be horrified – er, entertained – by what goes on in there.

So, here are five things you might not know about me.

1) I can’t stand the word “ointment.” Even typing it makes me shudder. It’s a squicky, nasally word. It just *sounds* greasy. Which makes it accurate, I guess, but it still skeeves me out. I much prefer “salve.” It sounds so soothing! (I told you it was weird in here.)

2) I’m terrified of cockroaches. This stems from a really scarring experience that happened at my family’s lake house when I was a kid. My brothers and I slept in a loft. The first night we slept there, we sort of *sensed* this scurrying, and my brother reached out and turned on the light. They were EVERYWHERE. On the lamp, on the walls, on our PILLOWS. I’ve never gotten over that, and I never slept at that lake house again. Which isn’t to say we never spent any other nights there. I’d sit in the middle of of the kitchen table with the light on, reading and watching for cockroaches. When the sun came up, I’d go to sleep on the couch. As far as why they’re so terrifying? They’re sneaky, their legs are creepy, and they *scuttle.*

3)I’m obsessed with sharks. Seriously. If I couldn’t be a writer, then being an icthyologist that focused on sharks would be at the top of my list of chosen professions. I think they’re fascinating – they’re incredibly ancient, they’re crucial to the health of the oceans, and they’re deeply feared, even though they *rarely* attack. (Little known fact. Florida? The “shark attack capital of the world?” Most of those attacks are by tiny little sharks like lemon sharks. You might need a stitch if one got your toe. More likely you’d need a good band-aid. And some SALVE. Anyway. I’m particularly interested in the shark attacks that happened in and near Matawan, New Jersey in 1914. They’re the attacks that inspired Peter Benchley to write JAWS, and the REAL story is truly remarkable.

4)I can’t drive a stick shift. My father tried to teach me, when I was sixteen. He was not a good teacher. I was not a good student. He had me drive a souped-up, turbo charged sports car through five o’clock traffic to pick up my younger brother. Said brother was at a house half-way down a hill we affectionally referred to as “Dead Man’s Hill.” (A street we lived on for many years, incidentally.) Anyway, I was supposed to back out of this driveway halfway up this very steep hill and shift into gear to drive away. I stalled it three times, it started to roll backwards down the hill and I FUH-REAKED out. I yanked the parking brake, got out, and stormed around to the passenger side. My father insisted that if I didn’t learn then, I’d never learn, and I said “FINE. Then I’ll NEVER LEARN to drive a stick shift.” One thing about me? I’m stubborn. To this day, I don’t know how to drive anything other than an automatic.

5)I won’t sleep with a door – including a closet door – cracked open. It can be all the way open, or all the way closed (preferable,) but not halfway in between. This started when I was a kid, and was terrified that someone or something might be behind the cracked door, watching me while I couldn’t see it. Now that I’m an adult, the no-cracked-doors rule is mostly a habit . . . . but I’m still not taking any chances.

If you have weirdnesses of your own to share, I’d love to hear ‘em! Leave them in the comments, okay? Thanks!