I've been a relatively quiet twitterer lately, since my funny bone seems to be on strike, so I thought I had escaped the twitter 7 things meme whilst I sat on the sidelines. But alas, I done got tagged by @katkuhl. This is one of those memes where you just spew random (hopefully interesting) factoids about yerself. And so, drummmmmRoll puh-leezie, my 7 Thangs:

1. I Don't Drive Behind White Minivans (and other driving principles)
There are a number of driving principles I've developed over the years. Most of these principles revolve around the notion that I should be able to safely go 75+ in the fast lane and so should you. At some point, I began to notice that white minivans were routinely illin' my mojo-on-the-go-go. And so there began a lifelong effort to collect anecdotal white minivan data to shore up a hypothesis. What emerged, however, was a validation of not only my postulate, but of a Universal White Minivan Theorem. Based on the historical data, I have firmly concluded that "white minivans are the bane of the earth". If you accidentally get behind one, change lanes, you'll thank me later. (Other principles to which I closely adhere include using my blinkers and employing the "slower traffic move left doctrine", leaving me in a minority amongst licensed drivers.)

My Car in Amador

2. I am soooooo a Child of the 80's:
In the third grade, 1983, I bought a lavender nylon wallet with a velcro closure and a screen printed picture of gerry-curled Michael Jackson and the word "Thriller". That same year, I amassed a collection of ONE HUNDRED jelly bracelets. Which I would wear all.at.once. They covered my left arm from my wrist to my elbow, and went perfectly with my baby blue jelly shoes (when I wasn't wearing my black, fingerless, lace Madonna gloves). I bought my first tape (bootlegged) at the flea market in San Jose. It was Run-D.M.C. I learned about birth control from Molly Ringwald, my aunt waited in line to get me a cabbage patch kid, and our first home computer was an Atari 400. I feathered my hair and teased my bangs. Rock Me Amadeus, oh Rock Me Amadeus.

3. I Don't Like Watermelon
Really. I don't like watermelon. You would think people would be ok with this, but you would be wrong. It's pretty much impossible to go to a picnic, walk past the guy handing out the BEST.WATERMELON.EVER and, despite vocal protestations, not be forced into taking a slice. Give me smelly cheese, but please Lord, spare me the watermelon.

4. I Run, Bike, Swim (well, I did)
In the third grade (clearly a formative year), I came home from school with a flyer announcing sign-ups for the girls track team. "Mom, Dad!" I said definitively, "I want to do this because I can run fast." For the next five years, I spent pretty much every day after school and a good number of weekends as a runner, competing in extracurricular track and cross-country. I was sorta in the B+ range of talent, which I will attribute to my lack of OMG I MUST WIN spirit and an overbearing father who went so far as to write an ATARI BASIC program to calculate the progressive splits I needed to achieve to get my PR. Outcome: FAIL. (Though, in several weekend "fun runs", I finished as first female, at the age of like 10.) I went on to cycle competitively and swim too, where I also achieved solid B+ status. Got one of those varsity letter thingys in swimming.

5. DiffyQs
The highest math class I took was "Ordinary Differential Equations with Linear Algebra", which is the one after Calc3. Got me an A. ("Math class is tough?" Suck it, Barbie!) This was followed by an engineering programming course in which we employed said greek math via FORTRAN code to calculate the flow of water in confined and unconfined groundwater conditions. I look back at my notes (I will post a photo of them later) and I have no flippin' idea how the hell I did that or what any of it means.

6. Indian Summer
There is a fair amount of native american blood coursing through these veins of mine, attributable to both sets of maternal grandparents. Supposedly Cherokee and Choctaw. It's a little difficult to track down the cold, hard facts, because, well, turns out one great-grandpapa was a rolling stone and teenage moms made bad genealogists. People who notice these sorts of thing can apparently see the genetics in my cheekbones/facial structure. Wish I knew about this aspect of my ancestry, like maybe how to cook with acorns, but alas, I do not.

7. Ciao, Bella!
The year I turned 31, I traveled by myself for 5 weeks in Spain and Italy. It was awesome, it was exhausting. Pretty epic.

Insignificant Little Me at the Pantheon

I tag anyone who has not yet been tagged.