So I tagged myself

I've been lacking inspiration, so I'm going to pretend that Kristin meme-tagged me.

Unfortunately, I don't imagine there are 6 things about me that I've never shared with *anyone*. I mean, I have a big mouth, and I like to hear myself speak. Of course, this means most people have learned to tune me out, so there's a good chance nobody remembers any of these things.

1. I am amazed by the invention of good, microwavable bacon. I remember those bacon-nuker plastic trays of yesteryear, and how it still came out gross. I am afraid of frying bacon. On a Girl Scout camping trip, I was given the job of frying bacon, and I was so terrified that my leader got mad at me and kicked me out of the kitchen. It's loud, it's smelly, and it hurts when it spits. Plus, fried bacon always winds up with a few gobs of rubbery fat that make me gag. The new microwaveable bacon is heaven for my mouth, even if it's hell for my digestive system.

2. The shower in my master bathroom needs to be cleaned, and I just don't want to do it. I have actually been using the shower in the main bathroom, because it's less effort. The husband, however, continues to use the master bath shower. He should clean it while he's in there.

3. My first beer was a can from a 6-pack found in the middle of the woods. (Hey- now I know where my kids got their scavenger traits!) Oh, and it was the middle of summer. Warm beer that was sitting around for who knows how long. My friends and I practically owned those woods, and we had never seen anyone else in that area, let alone someone who might appear to be the kind of person who would take a 6-pack out into the woods. So, we went back that night with a boom box, built a campfire near the hidden little pond of some poor old lady's multi-acre property, and split the 6-pack between about a dozen of us 13-19 year-olds. This is probably why I was able to avoid falling into the "party" crowd until the last few weeks before high school graduation. That, or the fact that the party crowd probably didn't want to be seen with a girl who wore denim shorts with pantyhose to school in December. I don't know.

4. I am addicted to Diet Mt. Dew. Most people know that, but they don't understand the extent of my addiction. I chug cans of Mt. Dew from 10am until I go to bed. We are allowed 1 can of recyclables every other week, and it can't keep up with the combination of my Dt. Dew and the husband's regular-Dew habit. Granted, we go through quite a few gallons of milk that take up a lot of room in the trash can, but I still don't think they'd all fit. Yes, it is a problem. At least it's not cocaine. Or booze. Though I imagine replacing my Dew with rum would be really interesting for a few days.

5. My switch from regular Dew to diet was hell. However, the powers that be deem me a "healthy weight" for the first time in as long as I can remember. Prescription drugs have played a part in that but, seriously, my Dew switch has cut at least 600 calories a day from my liquid diet.

6. The weight loss side effects of Adderall are a blessing and a curse. I am thrilled to be smaller, and I even enjoy the new distorted sizing of clothes that has put an itty bitty number in my pants, despite my ancient jeans with bigger numbers fitting just the same. Still, trying to remember to force myself to eat really isn't any easier or more fun than trying to keep extra food out of my mouth.

I know everyone trying to lose a few pounds will resent my saying that, but it really is true. And I say that as a person who has battled her weight since the 8th grade. Health is more important than weight. Unfortunately, keeping my life in some version of order is sometimes more important than health. So I go back and forth. If you find me eating a grilled chicken salad, expect to find my house a wreck and my children running wild. If you find me arriving somewhere on time, prepared and alert, feel free to force feed me a few cheese sticks or microwaveable bacon.

*Bonus tidbit
Right now, I am wearing a concert t-shirt from 2001, and I'm not ashamed of it. It's a Matchbox Twenty shirt. When M was a baby, she used to point to all of the dark-haired men on this shirt and say "Dada!" Now C does the same. I think it's cute that they see their daddy as a rock star. And I like my old shirt.

You may consider yourself tagged.