duck, duck, goose!

I've been tagged by MM, so I suppose this is the bit where I go about the circle duck-duck-ducking before tagging the rest of you (be ready, A!). Here are the rules:

1: The player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves - try to find 6 you haven’t already posted about!
2: At the end of the post, the player tags 6 people and posts their names, and then goes to their blog and leaves them a comment, letting them know they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog for the rules.

Disclaimer: My siblings learned a song in their kiwi primary school that went something like this: "It's a song about me, it's a song about me, it's a song about my in-di-vid-u-a-li-ty!" We like to sing it in our family when someone's being particularly self-centered or when the world's tiniest violin needs vocal accompaniment. This post might warrant both. "It's a song about me, it's a song about me . . ."

1::: My mum collects chairs, little ones. They line our kitchen window sill and cast miniature shadows across the tile. Mr. Knightley likes to purr among them, stepping inbetween their spindly legs, crying to be let out. Whenever I see a little chair, I think of my mum.

I collect birds. I collect books. And I collect globes. I used to collect cats when I was small; I had a sturdy green cabinet full of them---ceramic, wood, doodled, carved. There's a jar of sea-glass on my nightstand and my bubble pens are clustered on a shelf. This year I began collecting old Kodak Instamatics, and now they're nestled between books on the shelf. I collect words. I collect names. And I collect Es. Sometimes I want to make up my mind but then I think, maybe I collect collections, and it makes me feel a little better.

2::: If I had to play a board game right now, I'd choose Candyland because it reminds me of my dad. It went the same way every time: me and O vying for Queen Frosty's title, one of us ultimately being relegated to a mere Princess Lollipop, crying if destined to be Mr. Plumpy. Within days of use Queen Frosty's card was crumpled and bent, giving it a distinctive place among the deck of cards. A good half of each game was spent figuring out how many turns it would take to get to her card and devising some way to rig the whole thing in order to get it for yourself. I used to tell myself that I was destined to be Queen simply because she had long hair and I did, too, and Princess Lollipop had short hair just like O's and so didn't that seem right? O didn't like that reasoning much. But my dad put up with all of it. (See also: Pretty, Pretty Princess. He'd wear the earrings, even!)

3::: I once wrote an "I Will Never" list that included, among others, these three points:
---write science fiction
---care about professional sports
---wear yellow
I have broken all three promises within the last two days. Turns out that my novel idea lent itself to the SciFi genre, caring about professional sports doesn't necessarily mean you have to be passionate for them, and my new yellow sweater's glowy hue was the perfect reflection of my mood the Tuesday I wore it.

4::: During my fourth year at Carden I went through an incredibly optimistic stage where everyday I'd declare a new "Joy in Life." Eventually the whole class caught on and my daily mantra became morning devotional ritual. Mr. Bradford was especially excited about it, and would ask me for the latest whenever I passed him in the halls. I still remember a particular May day when he was just leaving the staff room as I passed down the hallway and he asked for the news. "A toasted sourdough sandwhich filled with provolone, honeyed ham, dijon and romaine," I replied without pause, and he burst out laughing. Looking back on it, I think he may have inspired it all: he was a fabulously alive teacher who gave us every reason to love life.

5::: All my life I've thought that, if I had a cat all my own, I'd name him Dante. My dog would be Samwise and we'd live ever after in a small cottage curled into a green valley and fill our days with heart-happy things like hot water bottles and postcards. But that's beside the point: All my life I've thought that, if I had a cat all my own, I'd name him Dante. At least I thought that until yesterday, when I manned the WF recruiting booth with Maryon and she reminded me of the cat from Runaway Bride that's named Italics and I thought, wouldn't that be great? What if I had three cats, Italics, Bold, and Regular? Or what if I named them after fonts? Like Gill Sans, Zapfino, and Plantagenet Cherokee?

6::: I am a solidly odd-number person. My favorite numbers are 11, 17, and 23 (which all happen to be exactly six numbers apart; don't ask me what that means) and I avoid anything divisible by two at all costs. I don't know exactly what it is, but it might have something to do with how I prefer assymetry to balance, or that I associate Tuesdays and Thursdays with odd numbers (and they are my Destiny Days), or that odd numbers leave room for growth---even numbers seem too full to allow adventure. This pattern has been proven, too: all odd years in my life have been the best. I'll never forget fifteen in Aotearoa, or seventeen with the Nerd Herd, or nineteen with all the possibilities ahead. Trust me, sixteen, eighteen, etc are merely gap years in my big picture. With that revelation, then, I'm afraid this can't be the end. One last thing about me to push past this multiple of two:

7::: I have laughed more in these past few days than maybe the entire semester combined.

Goose! Your turn, A, Marcus, Jacq. Anyone else may join in, of course, but for you three, this is mandatory.