The random and the weird

Very recently the lovely Gail tagged me to reveal 7 random andweird facts about myself. You may have noticed the paucity on my blog of late – I had, but I just felt out of steam after finishing my thesis. So, this task to me seemed the perfect way to ease myself back into things. It also mean that I (in part) honoured the tag that Nin gave me absolutely yonks ago (see, I hadn’t forgotten – I was just useless!). I know I have made a similar post before, but believe me when I say that you couldn’t fit all the random and/or weird stuff about me in a whole series of posts!

Right. Here goes.

1. My middle name is Mary. This has always amused me greatly. I don’t know why – perhaps it’s the idea I was named after the Virgin Mary, which is soooo not the case, lol lol lol!!!!
2. Continuing on the Mary theme, I was most upset when I was forced to play Mary on the play group nativity (circa 1983). I wanted to be an angel because they got tinfoil wings, but was denied on the grounds that I didn’t have blonde hair and we all know that angels are fair. So with my dark brown hair, the only role left for me was the down-trodden, heavily pregnant mother of our Lord. Something tells me that such hair colour- based discrimination wouldn’t hold up in this day and age.
3. Resultantly, I have never been satisfied with my hair colour lot, and have tried very colour under the sun, including pink, purple, yellow, black, red, orange… I must dig out the old photos some day!
4. At the moment I am a fetching shade of peroxide, but as a teenager I thought that ‘bleached hair’ was literally… um… bleached. So I set to pouring a bottle of Domestos on my barnet, but instead of a golden blonde, I was left with a stinky, frizzy mess and sore skin and eyes!
5. I also have the scars of other hair-dying incidents gone awry. After a hot night sleeping on a friend’s sofa, I was mortified to discover that my purple hair dye had sweated all down my face, neck and shoulders. I couldn’t get it off! So I … err… used a brillo pad and *scrubbed*! It didn’t at first, but after about a minute, the raw agony set in! The skin on my neck is still darkened from scarring.
6. But in the scheme of things, these are junior scars. I’ve mentioned the one on my stomach before, but have I ever mentioned the giant chicken pox scar buried in my cleavage, or the 6 inch scar on my shins from falling in a bucket of bricks?
7. Perhaps this is where my near-phobic dislike of having my shins touched comes from.

Right, the rules state that I am meant to tag 7 people, but in the spirit of being random, I am not doing that! Plus, writing this post has thoroughly drained my creative energy, so I’m off for a nice cup of tea and a sit down