I've Been Tagged

...for the first time. Fun! Now, for the five "weird" things about myself: (Thanks, Suz!)

1. I have a bad habit of correcting grammar. I am an English major who fails to speak/write correctly from time to time myself, but I can't help but point out obvious errors. It's annoying to others, I realize, but it's this strange instinct I have a hard time overcoming sometimes. My grandmothers, for instance...I have two grandmas who both insist that they "warsh" the dishes. AUGHHH! The agony of even writing that non-word!!!

2. I have been known to jump out of a moving vehicle to run across the road and close a person's gas tank door that was inadvertently left open. Another minor little thing that gets me worked up, though I, too, have caught myself with an open gas tank door.

3. When I was a Health Occupations student in my senior year of high school, I failed CPR certification. The teacher announced to everyone that I was the first person in her 20 years of teaching to not pass this "simple" certification. I was president of my class, went to state finals in several health topics, could name every bone in the body and process in the digestive system...but I could never pass that darn CPR unit.

4. Speaking of senior years, I still owe my high school English teacher a paper. He told me he would flunk me if I didn't turn in the MacBeth term paper, so I promised I would have it turned in the "next" day. I mean, I gave him my WORD. It bugs the hell out of me, and to this day I still dodge him when I see him out in the community. He recently retired, but just knowing I didn't keep my word is aggravating because I value my integrity. I've even had nightmares about how I need to go back to high school and retake the whole class. (Kinda ironic that I'm now graduating college with an English degree, isn't it?)

5. I was raised on a farm and had more responsibility as a child than I've ever had as an adult. I was almost killed when I fell off a horse at age three and then almost killed by a raging bull when I was seven (my dog, Speckles, came out of nowhere and nipped him on the ears, diverting him away from me); my dad bought me a three wheeler when I was 8 so I could drive around and check our fences every day after school, and when I was 9, I started raising baby calves from bottles when their mothers wouldn't claim them. (I had three total--Pooches, Princess, and Prince--and I bawled when my mother sold them during the divorce.) Every morning, starting when I was about 5-6, I had to go out and feed/water the pigs, cattle, and horses. In the evening, I did the same. Mom took care of the chickens for the most part, but I collected eggs in my bicycle basket every afternoon and brought them up to the house. In the evening, I always had to help dad take care of all the livestock, which I HATED, so I oftentimes faked being asleep. If dad so much as thought I was neglecting my chores, I got beat senseless (once even thrown across the yard). Once when it was really cold and dad was laid up with a bad knee, three of our steers froze to death because they were dehydrated. I was only 8, but I still remember taking full responsibility and walking up to the house to tell my dad "just kill me now." I will never put that kind of pressure on my son!

Nearly everyone else has been tagged, I think, but if you happen to read this and haven't, feel free to participate and let me know. I just looovvee reading about other people's weirdness! ;)