Tag, I'm It

Here are the Rules:
• Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
• Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
• Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
• Let them know they are TAGGED by leaving a comment on their blog.

Here are my taggers (at least the ones I know about):
Juls of Keeping Pace and Peter of D.C. Spinster

I considered doing a silly one, and believe me, I've got the material, but wasn't in the mood. So here are five maybe-not-so-interesting random facts about me:

(You know I vaguely recall doing this before. Several times. But here we go again because I am SUCH a good sport!)

1. I've wanted to be a writer since I was in kindergarten.

2. I tried pot a few times in college (1970s, people, a long, long time ago), and the only thing pot ever did for me was make me puke. (Which when you think about it is odd, because isn't pot what's sometimes prescribed for cancer patients who are nauseated?) Except for that one day I was determined to find out what the attraction was, and I think whatever I smoked must have had a little something extra in it, because I literally saw little cogs turning around inside Eugene Tyrell's head. And then I puked. In the men's room.

3. I was married to a blind man (that would be Number One Daughter's dad). We talk when we have to but I'm seriously thinking of inviting him and his new girlfriend over for Christmas dinner. (It's just an idle thought so far.) Don't ask me why; I have no idea.*

4. I dated a guy in college (Boston University) whose older brother hotly pursued me until he convinced me to visit him in NYC. I did and it was a total disaster. I ended up stuck for the weekend with this guy (the brother) who treated me like crap. To top it off, just before I boarded the bus back to Boston at Port Authority, my ticket and wallet were pickpocketed. And I had to call that creepy guy to bail me out. (I have NO idea what made me think of this!)

5. My mother left home when I was 12. I had a tempestuous upbringing to say the least. I remember the paddy wagon coming to arrest my father shortly thereafter, in the middle of the night, and the police leaving me and my brother alone after they arrested my father. That's how the did it in those days. They arrested him for harassing my mother. But that's not why she left. My father started harassing her after she left. She left because she was seeing another man. I grew up in an upper middle-class family in New Haven, just in case you were picturing the Bowery.

Too much info?

I'm going to break the rules and not name the next five people, so if you just read this, consider yourself tagged.

*Turns out, I already told this tidbit in another tag. I'm including it again for the benefit of my new readers, cuz you gotta admit, it's kind of interesting!