Long ago in a galaxy far, far away (or, at least, a few weeks ago), I was an unaware participant of a bloggy game of Tag. Sandie at GeekedOff (a fantastic shrine to all geektastic glories) shared 8 random and fascinating things about herself, and then tagged 8 other bloggers to do the same. Out of the whole blogosphere, she chose me, and I wept with joy. And then proceeded to do nothing about it.

Weeks of laziness mixed with time crunchage later, and I’m thinking this is a perfect time to share. See, this week’s theme was Secrets of (Un)Success, in which we dissected the ways in which we can victimize and traumatize our careers. We talked about the myriad ways in which we can do it wrong. And lest you think I stand on high and pronounce mistakes without taking part myself, I think I need to let you in on the copious ways in which I do things wrong.

So here’s what we’ve got. I’ve written 8 random things about me below, my response to the “Tag – you’re it” goodness. Some of these tidbits serve as my weekly Rant (in which the target is myself) and serve as insights into where I came up with the week’s secrets. The rest are truly random things that help you know me a little better. We’re friends now and all, so you should really know. You’ve been warned. Hope you enjoy.

• You know how some people are angry drunks, or comatose drunks? I’m a lovey drunk. Get a few cocktails in me, and I am in love with the world. Normally a pleasant person but rather introverted, I will give repeated hugs to friends and family (and occasionally strangers), I will dance and invite others to join in, and I will make new best friends everywhere. I also become quite loquacious. Of course, I might stumble over and slur my words, but I’ll spit them out to anyone who will listen. Remember how I said earlier this week blabbing about freelancing or creative writing is a sure recipe to disaster? I know because I’ve done it, ya’ll. And had the awkward day-after conversations when I realized I sound like a pompous jackass.



• I am carrying on an affair with my bed. I love sleep a little too much. I sleep in more than I should. Remember how I said we should forgo rigid schedules for more flexibility, taking advantage of the perks of freelancing? I admit it - I like scheduling around my sleep, and not the other way around. And dammit, I can. So I will.
• I haven’t written creatively since I started this blog. Ugh. I know. I regularly talk about publishing, because it is a dream of mine. And I have been doing a lot to get my finished novel in front of folks. But as far as new stuff, I’m out. Remember when I said we don’t necessarily have to be consistent in our creative writing schedules? Yeah. Right here. Blergh.
• I grew up in Des Moines, Iowa, land of psycho sports fans, corn, and major drug traffic. Wha-huh? I swears. In addition to vehement and oft-inappropriate college sports mania, Des Moines was and still is a hotbed of drug manufacture and transfer. My dad, a Major in the police department, worked undercover narcotics, tactical, and gang units for years. And some crazy shit goes down that you would never suspect of the nation’s heartland.



• I’ve been known to go a little nuts at concerts. I mean, screaming, headbanging, jumping, devil-horning, and more. No moshing tho – ain’t cool. Some of major rock-exercise outings? Foo Fighters (3X), Weezer, the Donnas, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Lolla Chicago 1-3, and this coming Lolla, in which I plan to rage to Rage, Nine Inch Nails, and more.
• I have an ongoing fascination and pleasurable experience (read: obsession) with quality sci-fi. Many of you have probably seen my references to all things Battlestar Galactica, but there’s so much more. I’ve had dreams about the characters and story lines from Buffy and Angel; I shampoo my hair three times whilst consumed with a Lost plotline; I think of myself as Sam and Dean’s wise older sister that’s never mentioned because she’s not in the Supernatural demon-hunting biz but instead makes dough with writing. Not as cinematic, I know. But a pleasant thought nonetheless.



• Everyone’s worked shit jobs in their time, and I am no exception. While in high school I worked at the local Hy-Vee grocery store. For a time I worked in customer service, and one such service was accepting cans for refund. The shit portion of said task was when people would bring in cans covered in (hopefully) dirt, liquor, or even ants. And fully expect their refund. My skin still crawls thinking about the ants.
• While I like to think I’m unique in other ways, my name is not. In the summer of Sam and Star Wars (1977) in which I was born, “Amy” was dancing with “Jennifer” for national girls-name popularity, a dance that had lasted for years and would continue to for a few more. Growing up, I would be one of 16 Amys in any given class. And when I graduated college and moved to Chicago? Two of my best friends were named Amy. We were Amy cubed for a time. It’s now become de rigueur, even for my live-in lover, to refer to me by my last name.

Ah, randomness. I do love thee. And now for the best part! An essential component of playing the Tag game is tagging others. Here you go, my dearies:

Alison (Adverse Journalism)
Johnny M (The Clutter)
Elizabeth (BellaRossa)
Mark (JustaKrusen)
Charlie (Productive Flourishing)
Paul (The Twisted Mind Emporium)
Cody (Cody Robert)
Sheamus (I Am Sheamus)

The rules (shamelessly stolen from Sandie’s blog):

• Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
• People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
• At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names.
• Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’ve been tagged, and to read your blog.

And with that, I leave you to a fantastic Memorial Day weekend. Thanks for reading.

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