Three Truths and a Lie...

I have a hard time controlling my urge to slap clowns. Really. I do. If you know me at all you know that I am a kind person, not prone to violence. But, put a clown in front of me and my arm starts to twitch and my hand gets really hot. It has to do with a clown, a pony and a sunny day in Framingham when I was 4. Don't ask. *rubs arm, cracks elbow, crunkles knuckles*





I have a true disdain for fluffy toilet paper. It is an environmental issue for me, in the moral sense of the word. And I hate the way it feels, all flurrrffy-like and thirsty, all poofy and bumpy. No, my nether regions prefer the straight up Scott brand, as does my archaic plumbing (okay, and my wallet too..cause I have 2 teen girls and you KNOW how much they jam in the pot, eh?)





Once I stole something from my friend Rachels house during an overnight. I was changing the record on the record player (ah, yes, 'member doze?) and I found a pretty barrette on the table. It had sparkles and some ribbons, really thin ones, dangling from the top. I was never a froofy kind of girl, choosing instead to be the rough and tumble sort who plays Garage Door Limbo with the boys. But, that barrette spoke to me of pretty. And I wanted me some o dat. So I took it. It still haunts me to this day.





As a kid I used to get leg cramps at night. This happened often. My mother assumed that I was calling out in the night for attention, so she decided, after the first few times, to ignore it. That felt good, I tell ya. She came into my room one night and told me that I should "just think of something ELSE, and to Really Concentrate on it, and the cramp would go away". I decided to think of a vacuum cleaner. Now, every time I get a leg cramp my mind shoots straight to the Electrolux.