My friend and soon-to-be ad man over at Guardedly Optimistic tagged me with this chain-game/viral thing where I'm supposed to list five things you (i.e., readers of the OG, known and unknown (Hi, Mom!)) probably don't know about me. It's hard to know where to start, since I don't reveal loads of personal dirt here, but here goes:
1. I used to be able to dunk a tennis ball pretty easily back in high school. There was a time when I thought long and hard about getting those weird training shoes that were supposed to increase your vertical leap so I could get that extra lift and be able to dunk a basketball. Around that time, I often had dreams of being able to dunk: in the dreams, the dunks were usually the absurd, super dramatic, Dominique Wilkins type dunks, where it felt like I just kept floating effortlessly up and forward.
2. I hate goat cheese. Just can't stand it.
3. I really enjoy repetitive tasks involving paper, scissors, tape, and/or glue. I enjoy wrapping gifts and books I am reading in brown paper shopping bags. After I wrapping the stuff up, I like to decorate the paper with rubber stamps from my extensive rubber stamp collection, sometimes in a variety of colors (I have several ink pads). I'm not sure why or how I got into rubber stamps -- it was 1997, I think, when I was living in Japan: I bought four rubber stamps, with the characters for the four seasons. A few years later I started buying stamps again at Kate's Paperie in New York. For a while, I would look for stamp shops in cities I visited (Seattle had a couple great places). I haven't found a good place in L.A. yet.
4. I went to a "summer camp" at the U.S. Naval Academy during high school and seriously thought about applying to the Academy during my senior year, even after realizing I could not fly jets because of my vision. (I figured life on a submarine wouldn't be so bad.) The Academy's recruiters seemed anxious to attract more Asian, Arab, and South Asian candidates: some guy from the Academy kept on calling our house for several months after I got back from the camp. The week at the Academy was pretty fun, although it did involve a taste of hazing, when the plebes who were our counselors called us all into the hall one night, got up in our faces and screamed at us, made us make strange faces, and ordered us to do push-ups, wall sits, or squats if we couldn't name all the Navy ranks in order or sing the entire Navy fight song. There was a lot of indoctrination, and by the end of the week, I was pretty much ready to get in a sub or on a destroyer and blow shit up. There are many pictures from me around this time sporting my blue heather U.S.N.A. t-shirt. Luckily, I changed my mind and ended up going to some sissy-ass liberal arts college in Massachusetts and majoring in English (and econ) and not blowing any shit up at all (except for the occasional false binary opposition, I guess, but there were definitely no cool explosions -- well, no cool non-metaphysical explosions, at least).
5. I do a very good Scooby Doo impression.
As much fun as this has been, I can't bring myself to extend this chain: no one else gets tagged.