tagged again!

The first player of this game starts with writing 6 weird things/habits about themselves and then selects 6 others to write an entry about their 6 weird things/habits as well as state this rule clearly. After making your list of weird things, pick 6 others. They are allowed to laugh at you in your comments as much as they want, so deal! Don’t forget to leave a note that says, "You are tagged!" in their diary.

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Third times the charm, they say.

They weren’t playing the lottery or writing one of these, obviously.

***

1.  As part of my advanced Jugology studies, I did something a few weeks ago that I’ve never done before:  I watched the Oprah Winfrey show.  All the week before, the teaser on TV was "Almost 85% of American women wear the wrong size bra!" 

Got my attention, fer sure. 

It turns out that a woman’s bra size changes an average of nine times in her lifetime, but many women stick with the size they’ve worn since highschool days, even if it’s an uncomfortable and/or restrictive fit now in later years.  It’s no so much the band size, the part that fits around their chest as it is their cup size, the part of the bra that holds the breast. 

Women, if you haven’t been re-fitted for a bra lately, you may well be wearing the wrong size.  I’d volunteer to help you find the right size, but those red hand-slap marks take a while to fade away.  Your on yer own.

2.  Speaking of bras, I have met the woman that the Wacoal bra is named for. 

I met her in Kobe, the most exquisitely beautiful woman I have ever had the fortune to know personally.  Her father, the bra’s designer*, was a German man morried to a Japanese woman.  Wacoal was a sad person- so beautiful that almost no one would dare ask her out, and so lonely that she was sometimes taken advantage of by the men who did ask her out and dated her. 

I personally would have been happy to volunteer to go out with her, she was so beautiful, but, well, I was married at the time.

*  Yes girls, it is as you suspected and feared, most bras are designed by men.

3.  I’ve been to prison.  The Oregon State Penitentary at Aulmsville, near Salem.

After the Roswell Incident,  I got another truck driving job, delivering windows and glass in Oregon, Washington, and Northern California, for xyz Industries.  Our direct competition was Pella and Viking Windows, whom you may have heard of.  Ours were fine windows, and in 1991 I drove 26,000 miles in the Portland metro area delivering hundreds, if not thousands of them to new home sites and remodels, plus thousands more miles up and down the coast between Port Angeles, Washington, and the north Bay area – the Napa Valley and Sauselito.

One of my runs was to Aulmsville, the site of the new Justice center. I had a load of heavy, bullet-proof glass to deliver. I had looked it up on my Thomas brothers map and found out where I needed to go, and drove into the prison yard to find that everyone there was dressed exactly like me, in cheap denim pants and blue chambray shirts.  I also found out I was in the wrong place, that the new Justice center was miles back down the road I had just driven there.  There I was, in the prison yard, mixing with felons and assorted criminals, dressed exactly like they were.  Thank god  they let me drive out!

I’ve been to the Portland city jail too… After I finished my term on the Multnomah County Grand Jury in 2002, we were given a close-up tour of the Justice center downtown, and lemme tell ya, that’s all I ever wanna see of it.

4.  I work six days a week and am poorer than you, probably.  I do an important job, delivering the newspapers to stores and street racks so you can buy them as soon as they come out and bitch about how expensive they are.

5.  When I was growing up, they said I can do anything I liked, that I was so intelligent that the world was my oyster.  Now, at 44, I am doing pretty much what I like and they are still not happy with me.  Shouldn’t have told me I could do anything I liked, because I have done exactly that, what I liked.

6.  I’ve flown a plane.  Yep, a Cessna 172.  K* and I drove up to Maine after she graduated from school (with a BFA) in 1985 to see a friend of hers she had met in the hospital up there the year before.  We took a scenic tour flight with E over the Bath-Brunswick area we had lived in and flew over Bath Iron Works, where my Navy ship had been built.  The pilot looked at me in the seat next to him and said, "you wanna fly for a bit?" and I nodded eagerly.  He turned the controls over to me and I began to sweat. 

I mean, I began to fly the plane, gently banking it over the Iron Works while the pilot turned around in his seat and talked to K* and E behind us. gesturing with his hands as he explained what we were flying over.  The two women back there nearly freaked out – "who’s flying the plane!" K* said, and looked almost horrified when the pilot pointed to me and said casually"oh, he is" and went on with his talk.

We landed later and I had to change my shirt, as soaked with sweat as it was, but I felt lucky – I didn’t need to change my pants.

***

Part of this fun thing is to tag six of my favs to do this too.  Since I’ve already tagged 12 of them, and am hazy on who I tagged, at the moment, I will call for volunteers, pretty sure that almost no one will step up and do this too.

C’mon, make me be wrong.</

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I dare ya!

*****