In Which I Get “Tagged” and Divulge Secrets

I object to chain letters for all the same reasons you do. The pressure, the promises that never come true, the threats that might come true if I break the chain, the dollar bills or recipes or gold ingots that are supposed to arrive and never, ever do. (I desperately wanted to believe in that dollar bill pyramid scheme!)

I am also routinely the person (correctly) assumed to be the last friend on earth to answer those email questionnaires that go around taking a full personal history and ending with inane questions like "Bacon or bacon bits?". That said, I have been "tagged" in the blogger's version of a chain letter, which in this case is elevated from its humble and annoying history as a pain-in-the-ass Ponzi scheme by being renamed a "meme," which is a word I can't get enough of. Ideas spread like viruses! This, I love.

Anyway, I'm honored nonetheless to have been tagged by the fantastically smart and compulsively readable super-blogger, my pal Gretchen Rubin. Once tagged, you are to divulge five little-known facts about yourself, then tag five new bloggers. For Gretchen, and for my secret aspiration to be included in a marginally clubby bloggish enterprise, I'll break my chain of never responding to anything remotely chain-like.

Five Little-Known Facts About Melissa Kirsch

1. Whenever I wake up from a nap, sleeping in the car/on a plane, dozing in a movie theater -- basically any spell of sleep that's shorter than a full night's worth -- I sneeze within two minutes of waking up. I'm not awake until I sneeze. I've never heard of this phenomenon happening to anyone else.

2. My first real job was sweeping tennis courts for under $5 an hour. With that giant broom that is about ten feet wide that you drag with your whole body like you're a herd of oxen.

3. Whenever I don't have a song trapped in my head, my head radio plays one of two songs that have absolutely no relevance to my life that I consciously know of: "Now That We Found Love" by Heavy D and the Boyz and "Fallin' in Love" by Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds (this could perhaps be the world's dorkiest song...and I somehow have it encoded in my DNA). I find myself defaulting to singing these two songs to myself several times a day. I hadn't, until searching for those links today, actually heard either song in decades. I find this hilarious.

4. The sight of the following things gross me out more than anything else on earth except for bugs: chewed pen caps, lipstick on the edge of a cup, those skinny Misty cigarettes (double gross-out if there's lipstick on the Misty). Ew. I get chills just thinking of these things.

5. I have two birthmarks on my left torso: one looks like a bullet wound and one looks like a faint map of Europe and Asia. I am positive at least one of them is proof of royal lineage.

That took longer than I thought. But it feels good to have let it out about my head radio and the possibility that I am indeed a princess.

Tag, you're it: Jean Villepique Sarah Grace McCandless Robin Epstein Michael Gross Stefanie Iris Weiss

personal, personalMelissa Kirsch