I've been "tagged" by Ronlyn Domingue, which leads me to my first random thing:

1. Growing up, I was terrible at tag and any sports that involved running, jumping, or hitting a ball. I could swim, though. Like a fish. I was pulled out of class to take a special class called Sensory Motor with all the other kids who couldn't run, jump, or hit a ball. We stumbled through obstacle courses made of tires, practiced jumping rope, and tossed a ball around the circle. In regular P.E. I was always the last one picked, except on those rare occasions when my teacher took pity on my plight and made me team captain. Did I nobly pick the other kids who were picked last? No. I picked the biggest and best, the ones who won awards from the President for their physical fitness.

During the fifth grade camping trip we played wiffleball in a clearing in the woods. I hid behind some trees in the outfield. It was the bottom of the last inning and there were two outs. My team was ahead by three runs. But the other team's power hitter, Adam Ramsey, was up to bat, and the bases were loaded. He hit the ball hard with a hollow plasticky pock! and the ball went up, up, and out, heading straight towards me. I crouched down and ducked, covering my head with one arm, holding the other arm out in front of me. Something smacked against my palm. I'd caught the ball. I caught Adam Ramsey's fly ball and won the game for my team. I think they carried me around triumphantly, but that might've just been something I saw in a movie.

2. Last night I had risotto at a friend's house, but it turned out not to be risotto. Whatever grain it was, it wasn't rice.

I'm a little paranoid about the rice shortage. Apparently, there's a banana shortage, too. I'm hoarding a few bananas.

3. Speaking of grains, I really, really love popcorn. Even plain. But not movie theater popcorn. When I was eighteen I spent a summer working in a movie theater and ever since then I can't touch the stuff.

The oil that gives movie theater popcorn its yellow "butter" color makes pretty rainbows on the water when you feed it to the ducks.

4. In college I worked several odd jobs after my summer working at the movie theater: I sold socks, I was a quality controller at a New Age pants company (if you paid extra, you could have a crystal sewn into the waistband of your pants, where it would rest on your sacrum and amplify your chi or something), and I worked in a head shop.

On an unusually cold day a shirtless man came into Pipe Line. He was dripping scented oils--Patchouli, Rain, China Lily, Egyptian Musk--from the tray of testers onto his chest. We kicked him out. The next day he came in and emptied the whole tray of scented oils over his head. We kicked him out again. The day after that he came in and vomited all over himself. He stood there for a moment, sort of stunned, and then went running outside. The next time he came in he was wearing an Irish sweater and carrying a pan of chocolate chip cookies, which he threw at us. Get it? He tossed his cookies.                

5. Last night I dreamt there were ants in my bed.

6. I just found out why the latest issue of Monkeybicycle, which I happen to be in, hasn't come out yet. Several printers decided the material was unfit to print. Obscene. What was so objectionable? Menstrual blood.

A less squeamish printer has been found, and the issue should available in the next two or three weeks.

***

So now I'm It. I tag the following people:

Eric Spitznagel

Elizabeth Crane

Sara Gran

Jennifer McMahon

Michael FitzGerald

Mary Otis

***

Dear Tagees,

These are the rules:

a. Link to the person who tagged you.

b. Post the rules on your blog.

c. Write six random things about yourself.

d. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.

e. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment at their blog.

f. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.