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Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

I Got Tagged! I Got Tagged! I Got--

The (Cyber) Bag of Weasels

bread and puppet




"About as much fun as a bag of weasels"...when I first saw this Irish adage, it made me think of the life of a writer: sometimes perilous, sometimes painful, certainly interesting. My paper journal has always been called "The Bag of Weasels." This is the Bag of Weasels' online home.

I Got Tagged! I Got Tagged! I Got--

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--tagged, yes! Welcome back to el-jay, Dawn, eh?

The lovely ladyelleth has tagged me for a Weird Things meme. Funny thing is that I was thinking today that I haven't done a meme in forever and that I would like to do a Weird Things meme because there are plenty of weird things about me to proffer for public amusement. Elleth must have read my mind. (Hopefully, it was longer than a drabble.)

So here's the rules:

Each player of this game starts off with ten weird things or habits or little known facts about yourself himself or herself. People who get tagged must write in a blog of their own ten weird things or habits or little known facts about themselves, as well as these directions. At the end you they must choose six people to be tagged and list their names. No tagbacks!

(Yes, I just copyedited the meme instructions. Note to self: #11. Copyedits meme instructions.)


  1. When I was a kid, I used to pretend to be someone called "Bob Cole and the Little Police." Bob Cole was a contractor who did some work on my parents' house. I have no idea where the Little Police come in. There was a dance that had to be performed after the pronouncement, "My name's Bob Cole and I'm the Little Police." If ever I get a video camera, I will perform it and post it on LJ. Hey, I skated in front of a couple hundred people dressed as a bellydancer one year. I have no shame.

    (For the record, the bellydancer fact does not count as a weird thing. I have pictures of that; I'll post them maybe once I figure out how to use the scanner!)

  2. I love vinegar. I will drink shots of vinegar straight after dinner sometimes. Vinegar on fries and spinach is delicious. If I have a bottle of apple-cider vinegar on the table with me, I can't resist. I drink a shot of it. Bobby finds this immensely disgusting.

  3. I still sleep with a stuffed animal. The progression of stuffed animals has been thus:

    Age 11 through 14: Golden. When I was 11, I badly wanted a Golden Retriever puppy. Unfortunately, my parents did not share my desire. So I thought I'd prove my passion to them by creating my own Golden Retriever puppy. Unfortunately, I didn't have any sorts of materials that even began to resemble a Golden Retriever, so I got creative. I took an old shirt of my dad's and stuffed it with one of my old bathrobes and called it Golden. No, it didn't resemble a dog at all, but I slept with it and took it on vacation for four years. I still have Golden; my cousin Jamie asks after him occasionally.

    Age 14 through 20: Footyball. Footyball was--doh--a stuffed football or, as we Americans would say, soccerball. I once entertained the notion of playing footy/soccer, except that I was afraid of the ball, so my sister and mom got Footyball for me. He went everywhere with me; I have pictures taken on vacation in Florida where he's in the background.

    Age 20 through present: Nelyo. Nelyo is, of course, my stuffed unicorn. Bobby bought him on a whim in a Candy Kitchen in Ocean City because I picked him up and went, "Awwww ..." Bobby and my family talk to him. He talks back. He's a mean little bastard, though, and would sooner pin his ears than look at you. He's been known to pee on my friends who tick him off. (People on my flist will vouch for this, greenknight33  and yuanrang.)

  4. When I was about eight years old, I had a pilgrim costume that I wore constantly. I would come home from school and put it on straightaway and wear it for the rest of the day. I think I wanted to be Laura from Little House on the Prairie. Anyway, this got out at school, and some kids picked on me, but I didn't really care too much. I still wore my pilgrim costume just about every day. I still love wearing costumes. When Bobby and I "firepit" at night, if it's the least bit brisk, I'll put on my full-length red cloak. Bobby will say, "Dawn! It's 80 degrees outside!" I don't care. Any excuse to wear my cloak.

    (I can't wait to finish my Elven dress for the Ren Fest this year. I can hear Bobby now, coming home: "Uh, Dawn? Why are you wearing an Elven gown? And are those prosthetic ear tips??" Erm ... of course not ...)

  5. I can't touch my food when I'm eating. Most people I know push their food around with their fingers. Ummmm ... I need a knife if I'm eating anything that uses a fork. I'm trying to convince Bobby to my line of thinking on this. I give him a knife even when he claims he won't need one. It hasn't had much of an effect so far, though.

  6. I will only drink dark beer. Bobby makes fun of me for this. He claims that dark beer--like Guinness--tastes like drinking a loaf of bread. We play-argue over whether dark or light beer is better. I call his "pansy beer" and he calls mine "loaf of bread in a glass." Personally, if it's the same color going in as coming out, I'm not keenly interested. If you hold it up to a lamp and can't see the light coming through on the other side, I'm game. Plus, I love bitter drinks: bitter beer, black coffee, tea brewed so strong that it's cloudy. Despite being a confectioner and making homemade ice cream as a hobby, I'm not fond of sweets. Now bitter ... when I was younger, I bit my nails, and my mom put a bitter coating on them that was supposed to break the habit. I liked the taste of the coating so much that I ate my nails down to the quick and licked it off the parts that I couldn't bite.

  7. I can measure my stress levels by the number of bleeding wounds on my fingers. When I get stressed, I start biting the skin around my fingers, and I will bite it until it bleeds. (Despite being blood-phobic, if the blood is coming from around my fingers, it doesn't bother me. This from someone who can't listen to the Incubus song "Blood on the Ground" without getting woozy.) Right now, I have no bleeding wounds on my fingers, though I have a scab that practically has "Seven in '07" written on it.

    (For the record, since I just said that I am a hobby confectioner and ice cream cook, I never touch raw ingredients with my bare hands. See #5. I suppose that being restaurant-trained just makes that feel taboo.)

  8. When I was about three years old, I nearly drowned. My older cousins were supposed to be watching me in the pool. "Oh, cool, look at Dawn trying to swim!" they said as I thrashed and struggled facedown in the water. Yeah, guys ... I was drowning. My dad pulled my out, and the water was knocked from my lungs. I still wonder if those few minutes without oxygen might have done something ...

  9. When Bobby and I were 15 and Sharon was 13, we had a "band" called Gravel Factory. Gravel Factory had a guitarist (me), bassist (Sharon), and drummer (Bobby). Unfortunately, Gravel Factory was very broke, so Bobby played Tupperware containers for drums and we had a $10 microphone that we splurged for at Montgomery Ward. (Remember Montgomery Ward? Ah ... the good old days!) Gravel Factory played exactly one concert. Since my cousin Jamie brings it up nearly every time I see her, I will write about it here, though I'd just as soon forget. (And judging by the things admitted in this meme, I am difficult to embarrass. Yet I'd erase this "concert" from my past, if I could.)

    It was a New Year's concert. I'd had my guitar for exactly three days. Bobby didn't play his "drums" luckily but sang instead. We performed for our family at my parents' New Year's party. We played Dave Matthew's Band "Ants Marching" and sang *omg* the Spice Girls "Wannabe." *ouch* Only I didn't have any music or tabs for "Ants Marching," so I just played the two or three chords I knew in my extensive three days of experience and winged it. And I can't sing, so I don't imagine that we did any favors for "Wannabe" either.

    Oh, we had an original song too that we played called "No Time." I still remember the very provocative and thought-provoking lyrics:

    Driving down the highway,
    All alone, with no phone,
    His friends are gone
    And his family's safe at home.
    He will be thinking, "Why am I here?
    Could this be?
    Everything bad that could happen
    Has come to me."

    Would you take time
    For this poor and misguided man?
    All that he needs is a friend
    And a helping hand.
    But you just cannot please
    All of his demands.

    Chorus
    He would stand strong
    He would not go
    Into the night
    Without a fight.

    If you are asking what the f*** that even means, that makes ... well, four of us!

    This might also explain why I generally avoid writing poetry.

  10. I can usually tell when I'm about to have a few "crazy days," i.e. become hypomanic, insanely productive and wildly creative. I can almost feel the disorder start in my thinking. (I guess the degree in psychology is good for something!) I start thinking about all food as living things. Not just meat--which I don't even eat to begin with--but everything. I think, "This chocolate bar probably doesn't want to be eaten." I start to feel really bad, so I have to change my thinking quickly or else not be able to eat at all without really upsetting myself.

    Yes, I know, that is freaking weird. But I never promised anything less!


Well, then, now that I've embarrassed myself and a few beloved family members to boot (sorry, Bobby, Sharon ... Nelyo) then I will tag some people to humiliate themselves participate as well. The usual rules of tagging apply. If I tag you, you don't have to do it, of course. I guarantee that I won't be angry. And if I don't tag you and you want to play along, feel free!

So this meme's victims are ...

dracoena ... as my newest LJ friend, this is your welcome-to-Dawn's-LJ-let's-humiliate-ourselves-together tag!
hrymfaxe ... just because. >:^)
ann_arien ... because I miss you. :(
ssotknapsack ... so you can get revenge on me by telling your flist lots of embarrassing things that you used to do with your sister Dawn.
talban ... just to see if Jenni will post in his LJ for him.
nienna_weeper ... because you always tell the funniest stories and I'd think you could come of with some really good ones for this.
  • I can't touch my food when I'm eating. Most people I know push their food around with their fingers. Ummmm ... I need a knife if I'm eating anything that uses a fork.

    I have a hard time touching my food with my fingers (well, except for stuff meant to be eaten by hands and fingers--but even then, my intense dislike of having stuff stick to my hands makes it hard for me to eat even M&M's!) But my mom always gave my siblings and me the death glare if we touched non-finger foods with our fingers, and my dad will use a piece of bread if he needs help pushing food around and doesn't want to use a knife, so I had no idea other people pushed their food around with their fingers (besides my siblings, but my sister greets and replies to people with very loud belches, so they're not exactly role models of table manners ;)). These days, if I eat anything that can't be picked up with just a fork, I usually tend to sit with my knife in my right hand and my fork in my left hand and both hands on the table all the time, so I never free my hands except to take a drink or use a napkin. It's a lot easier and neater to eat that way, I find. (My grandfather pointed at me once and said, "Oh look, she eats like a European!" :P)

    (Remember Montgomery Ward? Ah ... the good old days!)

    Haha, the last time I saw one of those, I lived in Illinois, and there was a city near mine called Montgomery, I believe. I'd been wondering if Montgomery Ward was only in Illinois then, since I've never seen it since!
    • I always say that I eat like a European too! :^D I think it is technically proper in the US as well, but most people I know just nudge their peas onto their fingers. There's something so ... bleh ... about that.

      I dislike residue on my hands. As soon as I come home from work, I wash my hands because of the touch of the sweaty, icky steering wheel for an hour. Or if I touch something that I know is likely to be germy--like a handrail in a public place--I feel this dirt spot on my hand that annoys me until I wash it. Sticky or greasy foods, I dislike the touch of them on my hands.

      We used to have a Montgomery Ward in the mall where I worked at The Piece. My last (and perhaps most vivid) memory of it was when it closed: They had an attic that hadn't been touched in thirty years. Well, when Sears took over, they cleared out the attic ... and unleashed a torrent of mice on the rest of the mall.

      Guess who was the first restaurant down the hall from Wards? o.O

      So six months of my time at The Piece was defined by mice that ran around behind the lines constantly and made a few appearances out in the dining room. The management set traps, so the storage spaces constantly smelled like rotting mice. Once, the general manager stuck her hand in an oven mitt to demonstrate something to an MIT, and a mouse ran out and up her arm.

      I was known somewhat at The Piece for my cynical comments in crisis situations. One time, a mouse ran through the dining room on a packed Saturday night. People started jumping up on the seats and screaming. Being the disgruntled production employee, I grumbled, "Oh, shut up, it's not a fucking Tyrannosaurus rex," which somehow lived through the ages at The Piece. There's nothing like restaurant work to expose the idiocy and irrationality of the general population.

      But whenever I think of Monkey Wards, I think of all of that. :^P
  • (Remember Montgomery Ward? Ah ... the good old days!)

    Monkey Wards!! Oh my gosh, it's been ages since I've seen one. Last time I saw one, we lived in Texas. There may have been one here in Chattanooga, but I can't remember it quite as clearly as the one in Lubbock.

    At least we still have Sears...
    • We had a Monkey Wards at the mall where I worked at The Piece. We had two department stores: Wards and Hechts. The Wards' employees were generally nice and friendly with the staff at The Piece. The Hechts' employees were notorious bitches who came in with a half-hour for lunch and then demanded the check split eight ways.

      But my last--if not fondest--memory of Wards is in the comment reply above yours, to Niki.

      I rarely shop at any department stores because their clothes are not quirky enough for me. But Bobby and I just bought a dishwasher at Sears ... it was a very good experience.
  • Sparkle is waving to Neylo...

    And hub says, if you drink vinager you will prolly never become diabetic. Has something to do with the gycemic index or some such thing... I dunno. ;)

    Hey. I like pale ale. D'oh!
    • Sparkle is waving to Neylo...

      Nelyo is humping madly at the thought ... He claims that it is because it is nesting season for miniature arctic long-haired unicorns, so he's exceptionally horny. Really, he's like that all the time.

      And hub says, if you drink vinager you will prolly never become diabetic. Has something to do with the gycemic index or some such thing... I dunno. ;)

      Well, that's a good thing! Last I heard, vegetarians had lower-than-usual incidence of diabetes as well. So I've got it going well on two counts. :)

      Hey. I like pale ale. D'oh!

      Ai, but you also like ketchup in chicken noodle soup ...

      :^D
  • He would stand strong
    He would not go
    Into the night
    Without a fight.


    Oh no, Dawn! You forgot the ending of our 12-year old song!

    "Now he must go
    Now he must die
    All just because
    There was no time"

    *On bass* Bum bum bee bum...

    I believe it was a song about committing suicide because you're lonely. ;)
    • Holy hell! How could I forget that! *facepalm* After all, it contains the title of the song!

      My personal favorite line:

      All alone, with no phone.

      And this was in the days before people implanted cell phones in their ear lest they have to make the monumental effort of lifting their arm from waist-level to ear-level.

      We were ahead of our time, methinks.
  • NOOOOOOOOO!

    Great. Now I´ll have to find half an hour to embarrass myself in front of everybody. As if I didn´t do that full time anyway. ;)

    BTW, it´s curious that you can´t touch your food. I am just on the opposite side: I don´t like using the knife and fork at all, and as soon as I´m alone I just drop them.

    (Methinks this meme is not going to be too difficult for me, after all)

    • I'm fine with touching fingerfoods, like sandwiches or jalapeno poppers. But I can't stand how people poke food onto their forks with their fingers. It's just so ... icky. It's more that graceless poking motion than the actual hand-to-food contact. My hands are always clean. I'm almost an obsessive-compulsive handwasher. ;)
  • When I get stressed, I start biting the skin around my fingers, and I will bite it until it bleeds.

    OMG, you really do that? Because you know, I'm doing it too. I really never bite my nails (though I did when I was younger) but I do bite the skin around them and I never succeeded in breaking that habit since it's something I'm doing subconsciously somehow... I tend to look really mutilated when I have to write papers etc... (add to that my bloody hair-pulling habit... meh...).
  • Awwww, this was so cute to read, especially the childhood fantasy's and pop band thing. As for Vinegar, I do use that while eating and my mom has this kick ass cucumber side salad recipe where vinegar forms the kick ass ingredient for it :)
    • My grandmother made a similar cucumber salad. I remember towards the end everyone complained that she used too much! :^P

      I never tried it, for some reason ...
  • Your taste buds seem to be calibrated a bit differently than other people's.

    I had to laugh about the vinegar though; when my young nephews act up, my sister threatens them with 'naughty medicine,' which is a teaspoon of vinegar. She said she accidently tasted some once and it was horrible. Granted, it probably wasn't a nice cider vinegar, but a cheap brand better meant for cleaning, but still...
    • People do taste things differently. It seems that some people are "calibrated" to like different tastes; others can't taste certain things at all that are unbearable to some.

      For example, old cheddar cheese tastes disgusting to me. Most people can't taste it. Once, at The Piece, a woman sent back a quesadilla saying that it tasted funny. My co-cooks all tasted the cheddar-monterey blend and thought it tasted fine. I only needed one taste to say, "She's not crazy. Throw it all out; it's old."

      Or Bobby describes dark beer as tasting the way that I describe pale beer: very yeasty, like drinking a loaf of bread.

      Maybe I should get into wine-tasting. :^P
  • Can't wait to see the Bob Cole and the Little Police dance! :D

    Argh, have been tagged - must do meme! And I have done it - nice to have something to do while at work.. But now I rememer that I forgot something hugely important on my weird list! My stuffed animal: "The toilet-animal" (Or "Toiletdyret" as he is called in Danish!) How could I leave him out! He is blue, made of the same material as towels, and is designed to fit on the toilet-seat, but that's just disgusting. He is a very badtempered animal, who bites and pins me and everybody else, except my friend Signe, whom he has a crush on... :) He is Spanish, though that doesn't explaing anything..
    • Bwah! I'm glad I'm not the only grown woman who still plays with stuffed animals! It sounds like Toiletdryet and Nelyo would get along pretty well. :^P
  • I can't touch my food when I'm eating...

    I had to read that bit repeatedly to make sense of it. Around here it's considered a sign of very bad manners if you touch your food with your fingers instead of a knife, so most people try to avoid it ;) The only food where the use of fingers is considered okay is sandwiches, bagels and the like, corn cobs, chicken wings and other, well, fingerfood. So at first I read this and went "...wait, how is that weird?" :D


    • I'm sure by Miss Manners' standards it's rude in the US as well. But commonplace nonetheless. And Americans--unlike most Europeans, by my understanding--don't tend to eat with fork in one hand and knife in the other. They pick up the knife on an as-needed basis, which I suppose makes it that it a bit of corn escapes the fork, it's troublesome to pick up the knife rather than poke the absconder back into place.

      All the same, I'm glad you don't find me weird. In that regard, anyway. :^D
  • You're funny, Dawn! I loved reading all the crazy little things about yourself (although some of them didn't seem so crazy at all).

    Of course talban would be thrilled to write 10 crazy things about himself!

    His handler(me) thinks he's crazy all the time.

    Thank you for tagging me!
    • meryth has to do the meme too. The problem is pinning him down for more than five minutes. These muses are slippery little bastards.

      >:^))))

      That sounds more up Tal's alley, I think.
  • OMG! You say "I can't touch my food when I'm eating." I can eat certain very tidy cold sandwiches--peanut butter and jelly or plain ham & cheese on bread, for example--with my fingers. Everything else requires a knife and fork. I eat Kentucky Fried Chicken with a knife and fork--ditto for hamburgers and fries. Also MUST have chopsticks for Chinese or Japanese food--it just doesn't taste right without chop sticks. Our local greasy-soup-brooklyn-chinese-food takeout place does not send disposalble chopsticks. That means I have to dig out my own (very elegant ones of course) to eat this very inelegant food while everyone else uses a fork and looks at me funny, saying things like "It is not as though we were eating in a nice Chinese restaurant!"
    • I boldly declare, then, that you have eclipsed me in weirdness. :^D I don't like to handle greasy fingerfoods with my fingers. So cheese fries and certain nachos, I eat with a fork. For some reason, if I get my fingers greasy and then touch my nose, my nose itches for the rest of the day. It's really annoying. Actually, that might explain a bit of my aversion to touching food, period, in addition to having been "raised" never to handle ready-to-eat foods with one's bare hands.

      I don't like Chinese food and don't know how to use chopsticks, so that particular dilemma isn't one I can relate to. :^D
  • Aww. hon! I miss you too. End even if I was away from LJ for nearly a month (again!) I wondered how you were doing, how the new house was turning up and just how much work you and Bobby have to put in. But I bet it's worth it if it means turning your home into everything you've hoped for.

    I will do this weird things meme right away, because if anyone is weird... that's gotta be me. ;)

    Lol, I didn't know you like dark beer. The funny thing is that I do too. Very much so. I think I like it because of the caramel they put in it, or whatever. Light beer tastes like tap water to me, compared to the much richer taste of dark beer. It also helps that dark beer is stronger that the light one, so yeah, there is every reason to call light beer "pansy beer". Plus, it is so much fun to go out with a guy, for example, have him order one light and one dark beer and then watch the confusion on the waiter's face when he/she brings the order and I ask for the stronger beverage.

    Your 2. is... definitely weird. :p

    And the bit about always enjoying to wear costumes is somewhat similar to my occasional obsession to have everyting I am wearing match colors (or even be the same color). Down to jewelry and even nail polish.

    I shall now proceed to scrunch up 10 weird things from the loooong list of weird things which I am made of. And yeah, doing a meme like this after a long time sure is nice.
    • Yay! I'm glad to see you around! So how is life? :)

      Dark beer is awesome. We have a microbrewery here in Merryland called "Duclaw" that has a beer called Bad Moon Porter that is as black as Guinness and has hints of chocolate and coffee to it as well. Yummm ...

      Now with clothes, I tend to choose complimentary colors over matching colors. I used to drive Sharon crazy because I'd wear an Adidas T-shirt with orange and blue stripes on the sleeve with my dark green pants. I think the orange and green together drove her nuts. Not me. I love complimentary colors. Not like one can tell by looking at the SWG site. :)

      *big hugs*
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