b. Each player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves.
c. At the end of the post, the player then tags 6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
I'm copying you Brooke in Irvine...
GOOD:
1. I have always been and will always be in love with Broadway Musicals. Ever since I saw Phantom for the first time when I was a kid, I was hooked. I listen to the soundtracks until I've memorized all lyrics, notes and even the instrumental parts. I only wish that somehow my vocal chords could produce two tunes at once so that I could sing duets like "A Heart Full of Love" and "As Long as You're Mine" all by myself.
2. I thoroughly wash cleaning gloves with soap after wearing them. So what's the point of wearing the gloves?
3. Over the last few years I have gradually changed lanes on the freeway. In high school and college it was nothing but the fast lane. Then after I got married, I drove in the middle lanes. Now, since having kids, it's the slow lane. I know, friends, pick up your jaw off the floor. Megan has slowed down.
4. I shave my legs every day. Even if I don't wash my hair, I still shave my legs. I can't stand the feeling of leg hair especially when I'm cuddling between my flannel sheets at night.
5. I love swimming in mountain lakes. Even more, I love jumping off cliffs into mountain lakes. Don't worry, I don't do it naked or anything, but I totally love it. My favorite place to cliff jump is a little tiny lake in Nor Cal called Cliff Lake (very original, huh). The cliffs aren't dangerously high, but high enough to be exciting.
6. I love to smother people smaller than I am. My poor children are subject to tight squeezes, tickling, kisses and other manner of physical contact (positive physical contact, for all social services employees reading this blog. We don't spank. Hard.) numerous times a day . Whether or not they like I'll never know. I don't really pay attention to their reactions because I'm only satisfying my squeezing needs.
BAD:
1. I can't handle "scary stacks". A term that my mom, grandma and I use, "scary stacks" are loose papers, bills, to do lists, etc that are just lying in piles waiting to be filed, finished, checked off, or paid. If I don't know precisely what papers are in the stack, I go nuts. For this reason I sift through the scary stacks multiple times a day. Am I making sure nothing has been added? Taken away? Who knows. OCD is what I do know.
2. Sometimes I compose hatemail in my head. For example, "To the makers of Tyson Dino Buddies Chicken Nuggets: If you are going to suddenly make new species of dinosaurs into nuggets, could you please make more of the NEW ones than the OLD ones so that my dinosaur-obsessed children won't fight over the NEW dinos? It disrupts our mealtimes to have our children screaming over the new pteradons. Sincerely, Megan".
3. I hate it when the bottoms of my feet touch each other. My loving husband often uses this quirkiness against me when we are going to sleep. He sneaks the bottom of his foot slowly over to the bottom of my foot, then proceeds to rubs his foot against mine. He doesn't know it yet, but that new guest bed that we just put upstairs is actually for him when he feels like doing this.
4. I have this overpowering urge to be different. This eliminates shopping at Old Navy, but Desert Industries and the random cheap-o stores have always come to the rescue.
And thus, the many lengths and rainbow of colors that was my hair while attending BYU. Go figure, I finally got married after I decided to look normal again. My favorite part was to watch people watch me. Oh, and my mom and dad showing up at my apartment with blue spiked hair just to make fun of me. That was the cherry on top. 5. I'm a picker. No scab on my body can survive without being picked numerous times. I have this theory that if I were to have a full body scan where the only thing that showed on the scan were scabs, my whole body would virtually be one big scab.
6. I let my kids eat food off of the floor. When presented with the choice to either let the kid eat the germ-laden raisin off the floor, or face a major full body tantrum coupled with screaming over that one lost sheep, I'll take the germs and the bad mom moment, thanks.
So, due to popular demand, I'm not going to tag anyone. But if you want to do it, just leave me a comment that you are!
