I know, I know. You’re all on the edge of your seats, aren’t you? Can you go on with your lives, knowing you may never know the answer?
Yes? You can? Oh. Well. *cough* I thought so.
Anyway, for a while there I thought I was going to be outed by my sister, who did hint at the possibility (it actually occurred to me to put a disclaimer in the original post warning all siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins to exercise self restraint, but I decided –rightly, may I add– that this would be viewed as an invitation). And now:
1. I am already published under a pseudonym. It was Star Trek fiction, and somehow it got published, I have no freaking idea why; it was complete mortifying fangirl crap. I was only 24. I’m trying hard to move away from that now and start over fresh.
Not true. Though I did, I admit with some cringing, once write most of a novel of TOS fanfic. I always thought Spock was kind of awesome.
(No, it was not THAT kind of fanfic, you dirty minded creeps. Quit looking at me like that.)
2. I once put four crushed whole (that is, seeds included) habanero peppers into my brother’s sloppy joe burger while he was in the bathroom, just to see what would happen. It wasn’t pretty. I honestly thought he was having a heart attack.
Also not true, though if I’d thought of it (and had access to a handful of habaneros), it probably would have happened.
I did put hot sauce in his burger once. I’m actually not sure he noticed.
3. When I was eleven I fell down my best friend’s porch stairs and cracked my skull on a cement block at the bottom. I have a very small steel plate welded to my parietal bone. Oddly, it doesn’t always set off the detectors in airport security gates; about half the time, I’d say.
Non, mes amis, non. I pitched off a bicycle and landed in a bloodsucker-filled pond. No steel plates, just a scar on my knee and an irrational fear of leeches.
4. When I was fifteen I backed a truck into the front porch of my house. I hit it so hard that I actually moved the porch a few feet sideways, making all the posts crooked. My dad had to drive around and hit it from the other side to straighten it out.
Bingo. Not very exciting, is it? But yes, that was my dad’s solution. I just kind of watched in awe and clutched my chest. –I hit that sucker so hard I had a steering-wheel shaped ring of bruises on my chest and stomach for a week afterward, and I was afraid to drive for a year.
(Not a huge hardship, that, as I was 15 when I did it.)
5. I once streaked across most of my college campus with a small group of theater students. It was dark and pretty damned cold, and unlike some of my comrades I was lucky enough to escape before security corralled the lot of us.
I definitely didn’t run across the entire campus– just a sports field, really– and it was not theater students. 🙂
6. Somebody told me when I was a kid that if you pick a skunk up by the tail it can’t spray. We had plenty of skunks where I grew up, so one day when I was wandering around in the woods a skunk strolled by me (they really just don’t care at all, and hey, why should they?) and I thought hell with it and I bent and picked it up. It did in fact work; if they can’t lift their tails, they can’t spray.
Of course, you can’t exactly stand there holding a pissed-off skunk all freaking night, can you?
Again, non. The real story is, it wasn’t me. It was my dad, and it was a mama skunk with many hissing, tail-waving, pissed off babies (luckily too young to spray). He stood there holding mama skunk by the tail for a fairly long and uncomfortable time, contemplating the dilemma of how to safely release her. Eventually he decided to wing her into the bushes like a frisbee and run like hell.
Folks, do not try this one at home.