Tattered Page

Psychochild tagged me.  List 5 relatively obsucre things about yourself, then tag a few other bloggers to do the same.  I have to admit, I procrastinated by backtracking what others have listed, but I can’t stall any longer… so here goes:

My first job was as a Paperboy. I sucked at the video game- never went that way in real life.  I didn’t get to throw bundles from my bike.  No, we had to deliver it wherever was asked.  Mailbox? Check.  Inside the storm door? Check.  Inside the back patio opened to the metro section?  Better do it.  

From this job I learned the Law of Inverse Compensation: The people that put the greatest demands on you are the absolute worst tippers.  The people that ask nothing from you give some of the best holiday gifts.

I can’t remember the last time I got drunk.  When I was younger, this phrase would have taken an entirely different meaning, but it’s been almost fifteen years since any case Soju-induced amnesia.  Heck, in the past ten years I don’t think I’ve had enough to qualify as a “buzz.”  It wasn’t really a conscious decision to stop drinking or anything… I just stopped.  

Some people suggest that’s part of growing up… then realize who they’re talking about and retract that statement.  

I was planning to be what I hate.  Ok, I don’t really hate lawyers… or maybe I do.  Well, I don’t hate ALL lawyers.  Some of today’s most important battles are fought in court, and I’ve always liked a good crusade. Two court cases- one affected my family, the other, my pastime (Steve Jackson Games vs US Secret Service) left me seeking out a strategy that would let me fight the good fight.

Things got derailed, probably for the better.  I’d be held in contempt over the principle of something or other by now.

I was almost an English Major.  Well, English/Prelaw.  I took a few writing courses that were intended for English majors and managed to get the attention of the department head & my instructors… who put me through 2 semesters of heavy recruiting.  I remained a steadfast crim major- convinced that THAT would be more applicable to my future (go figure…)

I sleep on Roller Coasters.  Really.  Used to love em- but now there’s no thrill.  No rush.  The last time I went to Cedar Point I started getting tired in the line for one of the newer ‘highest/fastest/craziest etc’ (it seems the records are broken every year) and I just put my head against the shoulder restraints and… nodded off.  I woke when the ride ended.

I blame the Army.  Once jumping out of an airplane becomes mundane, things you KNOW are safe- like roller coasters- just don’t register much on the thrill meter.  I guess that if I had less common sense (somewhere my wife is laughing at that statement) I’d be breaking my neck in some “extreme sport” chasing after the next rush.  Another reason not to drink, I guess.

Allright, now… I tag “The Bitch,” wizzel, jason, and aaron

This entry was posted on Monday, January 1st, 2007 at 9:40 pm and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.