I have been coming across a lot of blogs entitled “100 things about me.”
I don’t think you want to sit and read that much about me – and I can’t be arsed writing that much any way. So, I’m following Five-In-Tow‘s example and doing this in 10 thing blocks for days when I am at a loss for blog topics.
I have already done a similar post so I’m taking the easy way out and using this as numbers 11-20.
So, here we go.
I have a scar on my lower back that is about half an inch wide. This is from when I stood up in the bath as a youngster and gouged a chunkof meat out on the tap. From memory, Mum said it was gross as all shit. I like to think I was sooper-dooper brave, but hey, I’d be lying. I’m a sook when it comes to pain. I don’t have a photo of this and it’s too awkward to try and take one now. Not that I tried or anything.
I got a tattoo when I was 16, and it became the first of many. It was a rainbow to honour my Dad who had died in a car accident when I was three. My mother took me to get it while we were on holiday, where a tattooist refused to ink me as I was underage. Next thing I know, we’re in a different tattoo shop and my stencil was being drawn up. This is something that my children had better not do. It also seems I have a hairy lower back.
I was given a Datsun Bluebird for my 16th birthday. I spent hours with my dad sanding it back and priming it, ready for it to be painted. I loved that beast, I had it decked out in purple and was super proud of it. I had to help get it ready for RWC and rego, so when it was finally done I was thrilled. My favorite part was that it was a “Datto” – made before the Bluebird was sold to Nissan.
I got a lot of flack when people found out that there was a hurricane “Gertie.” My nick name has been Gert since forever, and people took great delight in telling me how I am so much like a Hurricane. I offered to show them how much of a hurricane I can be when people piss me off. But they weren’t interested.
Before we went on our cruise to Fiji, I had a very real fear that we were going to die is some Titanic-esque situation. I actually left a note at home saying that if I died, someone had best look after my cat and love her like I did. Needless to say, this fear went away when we sailed back into Sydney. The cocktails on board helped soothe my nerves whilst on the water.
The three things I fear the most all begin with the letters “S”. On Dan and I’s first trip to QLD, I mentioned the fear I have of Sharks, Snakes and Spiders to Dan’s dad. He told me how there are Shark nets on every swimming beach in QLD. I felt so relieved by this and was prepared to dive in. He then followed up his statement with the calming words of, “Yeah, but they’re not there to keep the sharks out: it’s to keep them in so that if they eat somebody they an catch it.” Hello, readingabookwhileeveryotherbastardswims.
My favorite way to travel is to fly. I love it! Sometimes I am jealous of pilots – they get to fly everywhere. If we go away on holidays, I am generally more excited about the flight than most other things. I have been flying since I was a little tacker and used to visit my grandparents in Tasmania every year.
There is exactly 11 years and 6 months between me and one of my sisters. This photo was taken on the day she was born, where clearly me laying down was more important that my mother who had just squeezed out a grapefruit through a grape. I don’t think I look concerned.
I had a dog named Nipper when I was little, and he was Scotty x Terrier. He lasted until I was 21, and I was devastated when he died. He used to do cool tricks, like bite the other dogs’ balls to make them fight so he could sit and watch the show. When he died he looked like an old man – his black hair had gone grey in patches, and his little mustache was all salt and peppered. I loved that dog.
I learnt the hard way not to attempt to self-tan. I made a right royal mess of it and had orange palms for a week. I decided that if I wanted to get a fake tan I would pay for it. So I did… and ended up looking like an orange oompa loompa. Needless to say, I no longer attempt this folly.