Oh dear, we shouldn't do this, but. . .

On October 11, we were blog-tagged by our friend Karen. We have to write 6 facts or habits about us. Sounds like an invitation to embarass ourselves, but we feel oddly compelled to respond, like when you get those silly forward to 10 friends or you'll have bad luck emails. So here we go:

1. Kathleen hates having shoes on her feet, almost as much as she loves leaving them right in the middle of the entryway where I trip on them without fail. You would think after the millionth time, one of us would do something to change. You would be wrong. It will be the death of me. I need to start Yoga classes just so I don't pull muscles on such a routine basis.

2. I sometimes snore loud enough to rattle windows. Kathleen actually thinks "its kind of nice" (so she says) because "it lets me know you're alive and breathing." Rather than jab me with elbows, she gently rubs my head (could be why I am going bald)--says it works every time. So she can leave her shoes any dang place she pleases.

3. I will eat almost any type of food -- Indian, Ethiopian, Morroccan, Afghani -- I've even eaten grilled cow hearts and raw marinated fish (ceviche) on the streets of Peru, for Pete's sake, but if you give me any of the following, I will gag: Mayonnaise, Mustard, Ketchup, Pickles, raw tomato, warm lettuce. So much for the all american meal.

4. Our second date was in a driving rainstorm, and began by running a letter to a drop box for Kathleen's father. Liberated modern American man that I am, I sat contentedly while she got out of the car, ran in front of it to the drop box, and ran back, all without offering to do it for her or even giving her my coat or an umbrella. As she ran back in front of the car, she slipped and fell so completely that all I saw, from my cozy, heater-warmed driver's seat, was her upside down shoes flying through the headlights. I laughed. Hard. She got up. She laughed as hard as I did, and was still laughing when she got in the car. At that moment, I knew I was deeply, irretrievably in love. Despite all this, Kathleen actually consented to go out with me again. There is no explaining this. She is beautiful, talented, vivacious and smart. I am the luckiest chump alive.

5. Kathleen is Libra to the core. She analyzes every decision to the Nth degree, deeply agonizes in making it, and then can still be found, agonizing and analyzing, months or years after the decision has been made and is long gone. And no, this doesn't just pertain to her decision to marry. Though I am sure that one keeps her awake at nights on a regular basis.

6. Tomorrow is my birthday. I turn 45. There, I've said it. Now maybe the healing can begin.

So sorry, protocol demands that I now tag others. Annie Ballard, Brian Goodman (who needs to explain that whole dark socks and shorts thing on Candice Drew's blog), Paul Jager, and Cyrus Javadi, who needs to explain a lot more than socks.