Oh, Boy. I’ve Been “Tagged.”

If my friend Jaime Windon hadn’t done this to me, I wouldn’t be … having this be done to me.

But she did. And I am. And … so here we are.

So then. First, I guess, I’m supposed to post, right here, this, which I cut and pasted from her site:

So I’ve been “tagged” and it goes something like this:

1. Post these rules before you give the facts.

2. List eight (8) facts about yourself.

3. At the end of your post, choose (tag) someone and list their name (linking to their page.)

4. Leave them a comment on their blog letting them know they’ve been tagged!”

Isn’t this fun?? It’s just like … something fun.

So here are 8 things I’m thinking of exactly as I type them:

1. I think I smell bad. I spent about ten hours today in two coffee shops waiting for my car to get fixed, and drank, like, fourteen cups of coffee. So I’ve been SWEATING all day, and I think emitting that weird, wired adrenaline smell you do sometimes when you’re about 200 rapid heartbeats away from becoming a full-on smack fiend. So I figure right now I probably smell like something that would make dogs howl.

2. I want a dog. I love dogs. I also love cats. Since I’ve been married, I’ve lived with probably 40 cats, and NO dogs. My wife’s name is Cat. How stupid would I have to be not to notice the connection? I will have to speak with her about this.

3. My wife Cat is about 18 times smarter than I am. So having a conversation with her can be pretty tricky, especially if you go wading into it thinking you’re going to in any way impune her character. It’s best to think long and hard before you go diving into those waters.

4. I’m a weirdly good swimmer. I have no idea why. My father was an elegant swimmer. So maybe that’s why. Except he was also a phenomenal basketball player, and I play basketball like I play bocce ball, which is to say never. I never played  basketball, and today cannot. I never much swam, but today make dolphins envious. Life’s a mystery.

5. People say that life is a mystery. I don’t see how anyone can think anything is a mystery when they know EXACTLY how it’s going to end. We’re all going die. End of mystery.

6. I have memories that begin from the moment of my birth. This is supposed to be impossible–which of course I can’t help. I have as many memories from when I was born until I was five as most people have for any five year period of their lives. It freaks me out to think of how people can have NO memories before they were three or five or whatever. I simply can’t imagine having a blank that huge. 

7. It wasn’t until I was 23-years-old that I realized that everyone in the world DOESN’T have memories beginning right when they were born. It STILL amazes me. I hate it, because I have always wanted to WRITE about all the stuff I remember from my infanthood and very early childhood–but CAN’T, because everyone always tells me how no one will believe that I have memories from that far back, and so I’ll be essentially wasting my time. Drives me insane. So far, the ONLY thing I’ve ever “published” about that whole huge must-stay-silent-about-it chunk of my life is here. 

8. The first thing in my life that I was ever truly mystified by was the awesomely bright light on the wall of the delivery room when I was born. I thought it was ALIVE. Truly. Yet, it seemed … quiet. The nurses and doctor I totally understood to be My Kind. But that light. That thing just … transfixed me.

Well, that was … surprisingly fun. Thanks, Jaime! Do anything like this again, and I’ll …. I’ll … I’ll never again hire you as a freelancer if I ever again take over a magazine that’s geared towards skate punks and girls who, naked, could make metal detectors go off like a bank alarm.

Hmmm. Now I have to tag someone.

Okay, Skerrib it is.

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  • laughing hilariously at this moment…

    #5!! harsh!! but true…

    ah, the bizzare san diego days of <del>revolt</del> downtown magazine…

  • I love how your mind sort of bounces along like a ball down a rocky hillside. And yes, #5… Would it be more accurate if we people said death is a mystery?

  • You can remember all the way back to birth? That is WAY cool… at least I think it is. I wouldn't know, of course, as I'm one of those who can't remember much further back than age 3. So… is it?

  • It doesn't seem cool to me: it just seems like … breathing, or whatever. I've never NOT had those memories, so, you know: Is it cool standing upright when you walk? Like that.

  • mm


    I have similar memories

    I swear I'm not crazy, but, i remember my birth day as well. I don't remember the hospital, but I remember coming home to my grandmothers house and watching the closing ceremony of the 84' Olympics(which were on my birthday)

    Another early experience for me: When i was two years old, I fell off of a slide. One of those good old fashioned, way to large and unsafe, metal slides with concrete underneath, before the days of plastic and wood chips.

    I cracked my skull open, and obviously, needed surgery.

    I have an out of body memory of watching these doctors swarmed around me, with blood on their latex gloves and on their gowns. I can remember crying and crying bloody murder, for hours.

    Now my thoughts on this are either 1) these are memories my mind artificially created in order to cope with a traumatic experience or 2) i experienced a legitimate, supernatural, out of body experience.

    Which is really strange no?

    Or maybe i just am making it all up.

    I wish i knew.

    Just wanted to share(and again, i swear I'm not crazy. I'm sadly, as sane as they come, minus the occasional seasonal/light depression)

  • Modernly typographically-wise, yes, italics are … saner than caps. But jabbing the SHIFT buttons and continuing away is, for me, WAY faster than dealing with little html coding things.

    Clearly, you’re smarter than I. Or have faster fingers. Or something.

    Thanks for the very kind words you wrote about me. That was very nice.

  • I remember being in the crib and it freaks my family out. They don't get it.

    Also, death is not the end so is it possible that there still is a mystery? We will die, but then we will live. Do we know anything tangible that lets us know what comes after death? Small points but very cryptic.

  • I read once that one out of about 100,000 people remember stuff from their birth on. Until you and one other person who recently commented on one of my postings, I've never met anyone besides me that has real memories of their infanthood. I went through a long time where I ASKED people if they did–but stopped doing that when I found that virtually no one did (and that asking was amounting to what seemed like a kind of bragging on my part).

    No two ways about it: What happens to us after we die IS a mystery. Even for a Christian. We can IMAGINE–but that's as good as it gets. (And that's enough, of course.)

  • I’m coming in very late on this discussion, having come upon this posting through being curious if anyone remembers the day of their birth. I have a lot of memories from about the age of one year on. Moreover, I remember that, when my only first cousin was born (I was three and a half), seeing him as a newborn prompted me to reflect upon why I couldn’t remember life when I was his age. I remember trying very hard to remember as far back as I could but coming up against a wall in my memory. In my defense, I will say that I had a life-threatening encephalitis right around my first birthday. I was unconscious for some time. I’ve always wondered if the disease prevented me from accessing earlier memories.

    As for being able to remember from the age of one year on, I suspect I was assisted by the fact that my mother moved annually until the time I entered kindergarten. Having my memories tied to specific locations prevented them from just melding into one vague, generalized remembrance.

  • Microsofty

    Trully, I'd call it a blessing that you don't remember your extreme youth. I'd think most CIRCUMSIZED MEN would agree. Ouch!