I've been "memed"! (7 weird things about me)

I'm a virgin blogger no longer! P., author of What Possessed Me (a blog that takes a minute or so to load, but is well worth the wait), has tagged me for a "meme". I'm a little vague on the rules for these things, but I'm going to answer the meme challenge "Seven Weird Things About Me", then tag other bloggers and pray they don't curse me so I'll have to stay in Hades forever:

1. I can cross one eye. If I really want to flip someone out, I cross one eye, then both, or the other way around.

2. This has been the subject of another post on prosopagnosia, but I don't remember people's faces on a pretty regular basis, yet I ace the tests meant to identify people with face blindness. I'm either a really good guesser in test situations, or am more socially inept (or lazy) than I thought. Possibly both.

3. I've haven't set foot in a McDonald's since --- well, never you mind how long, but it's been a fine stretch of years. I worked there for five hellish months when I was seventeen going on eighteen and vowed I would never return. Ottawa may be Hades, but McDonald's truly is the Den of Despair. I count this as weirdness-in-other-people's-eyes, because they don't believe I mean it until I refuse to go in with them. Wouldn't even take my girls there; the Resident Fan Boy had to do it. Elder daughter now owns a DVD of Super Size Me, and refuses to go as well.

4. I don't own or operate a cell phone, nor do I drive. This is another weirdness-in-others'-eyes item. I don't find my life untenable without either device; the only difficulty is the assumption by others that everyone has a car or mobile: "It's not far; it's only about 15 minutes. Take the Queensway..." "I don't have a car." "Oh."

5. I am incapable of getting stoned more than three times per year. Mind you, the last time I got stoned was when I was 24, so I haven't tested this in a while. I found, in my misspent youth, that I couldn't get stoned for several weeks after a nice session with grass or hash. (Just as well. Couldn't afford it anyway.) This may also be why I never became addicted to cigarettes, despite smoking regularly between the ages of 13 and 20.

6. I'm related by marriage to Len Cariou. Not weird per se, but you have to understand, that he's married to my fifth cousin. Yes, I'm a family historian, and when I try to explain my hobby to most people, their eyes glaze over, even if they're in my family... I think, for sheer dottiness, genealogists rank somewhere between train-spotters and bird-watchers.

7. When I was a little girl, I used to purposely scare myself silly by lying awake at night and imagining how real I was. I don't know how I did this; I can't do it anymore.

There. Now to alienate a couple of fellow-bloggers: I tag Marie, author of the witty and touching novel Gods Behaving Badly (go buy it, it's great!) and the highly engaging blog The Woman Who Talked Too Much, and Jonas the US Poet Laureate Presumptive (who also appears to be channeling Vladimir Nabokov [as in Pale Fire]), author of the new blog Poetry in Motion. I notice he hasn't written in it in over a week. I do hope his poetic duties haven't forced him to give it up...