You're 18, you don't know what you want. And you won't know what you want 'til you're 45, and even if you get it, you'll be too old to use it.*

Steph at Crooked House (in my opinion one of the most under-rated/read bloggers going - so go check her out NOW) has tagged me.

Here are the rules, which I am supposed to post:
- Link to the person that tagged you.
- Post the rules on your blog. - Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
- Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

Six Not-so-terribly-fascinating Things about Me

1) I am currently engrossed in my January/early February binge eating of those hard little cinnamon hearts that are sold only around Valentine’s Day. Yes, they turn my lips and tongue bright red (not to mention my fingertips and therefore the pages of any book I happen to be reading), and give me heartburn, and make my jaw ache – yet every year for about six weeks I buy and eat bags and bags of them.

2) I HATE to wear socks and/or shoes. The minute I get in my house, regardless of the outside temp, I kick off my shoes and rip off my socks and wander around barefoot, even if the rest of me is layered in wool sweaters and thermal undies. Even the Uggishs have not cured me of this habit.

3) I love snow. Not necessarily going out in it, although I do enjoy a good run in the falling snow, and I love to ski – but just the fact of snow. It’s like I have license to hang around the house and do nothing all day. Well, you know, as much nothing as I can get away with…

4) I really hate to throw things away. You never know when you might need x, y, or z…that said, I JUST pitched all the sympathy cards from my dad’s death (20 years ago) and my mom’s death (10 years ago). I felt coldhearted, but c’mon….what am I gonna do with them, use ‘em for craft projects with the kids?

5) I am vaguely ashamed of the fact that I am very interested in religion. Not just in an academic way, although had I gone to grad school for English lit, my dissertation topic would have had something to do with the direct influence of the church on the literature of 17th century England (yes, I adore John Donne). But in a more visceral way – although my brain argues there is no God, I can’t get past eighteen years of indoctrination and I still firmly believe in God, Heaven, and Hell. Not that I have the foggiest idea what exactly I think about all of them at the moment, other than I am meant to be writing a Lenten meditation for our church brochure and am totally stymied.

6) I have been pregnant four times – given birth three times – and I am still not sure, until my water breaks, if I am in labor or not. Pathetic, no?

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*Walter Stratford, in "10 Things I Hate About You" (a movie which I really need to own, I realize)