A lot of my friends have been playing this “game” on Facebook in the past few days, posting things about themselves that others may or may not know. Someone assigns them a number (usually between five and fourteen), and that’s how many items they list. I chose five for myself, although others suggested eight, or ten, or twelve. Five was hard enough! But since I’m reposting, I’ll add five more here. First, the original five:
5 Things About Me You May Not Know:
- I didn’t learn to drive until I was 28. My friend Connie Joyce and I each made a New Year’s resolution that year. She had her ears pierced and I said I’d learn to drive. Up until then, I’d been okay not driving. Well, it was an inconvenience at times. I walked a lot. I chose an apartment close to work. In high school, my mother was involved in a bad car accident with two trailer trucks, and I know it kept me from learning for a long time. Connie’s husband Marty taught me to drive in his Oldsmobile Cutlass. He made me drive through the Hoot ‘n’ Holler Bridge in Central Falls, a narrow pass-through barely wide enough for one car (honk your horn at the blind curve entrance to announce your arrival). By the way, even with my driver’s license, I waited another three years to buy a car.
- I chose Music as my college major (piano), until I heard fellow freshman Rosemary Murray play “Rhapsody in Blue.” I was so intimidated I switched my major to Theatre. Then I walked into an Oral Interpretation class and was so intimidated by the students who knew each other well, and they did look at me as if I didn’t belong there. At least that was my perception. So I switched to English. Glad I did – my professors were the best.
- My first novel is fiction, as novels are. I did not lose my virginity to a married Swiss banker, bear his child, and give him up for adoption. (But thank you for finding it real enough to think so). All of my books are fiction! Sure, I draw on some personal experiences, but more than that, I draw on emotion.
- I went to a psychic in 1992, who asked me repeatedly who ‘James’ was. The only person I could think of was my Uncle Butch. I didn’t meet Jim until February 1994. Actually, I remember bringing with me three photographs that day: three different men. I knew that two of them were not meant for me (she confirmed that, dubbing one of them the true snake he was, dismissing the other one with a shake of her head). When I showed her the third photograph, she laughed and said, “Well, I can see where you’d be smitten with this one. If I were twenty years younger, I’d be smitten, too. But he’ll only make you cry.”
- I’m a lot shyer than most people think. And I panic at the thought of walking into a room where I don’t know anyone.
Okay, five more.
- Two weeks after I got engaged, I was hit by an eighteen-wheeler on Route 95. I was driving to work, and as my car spun across four lanes, all I could think was, “Finally I get a ring on my finger and now I’m going to die.”
- I’m actually not afraid to die. Not ready to go just yet, but also not afraid of what comes after this life. Just hoping there’s still time to mend a few fences. And write a few more books.
- I don’t want to be famous. All I want is to write really good books. And if I sell enough books to pay the bills, I’ll be happy. Truly. I enjoy my quiet life.
- I will not eat beets, peas, or asparagus. I know, they’re all good for me. I keep thinking I should give beets another try – after all, my experience with them consists of the canned variety. And my sister loved them. With vinegar. Ugh. So maybe I should get some fresh beets and be adult about this thing.
- I don’t deserve my husband. He’s one of the kindest, most understanding and compassionate people I’ve ever known. And he puts up with me.
If you comment, give me just ONE thing I probably don’t know about you!