So, seven random things about me.
I don’t like these games.
1. The second toe on my left foot (the one next to Big Joe) is bigger than my big toe. Not the one on my right foot, however. That’s the same size as Big Moe. (Just so’s you know, Moe’s usually right.) In itself, that’s not so strange (or random). But it *is* strange when you’re 15, and trying to find a pair of shoes. I can’t tell you the number of times I had to go back to the store and buy a size bigger because my right shoe fits perfectly, but my left one is very uncomfortable.
(Yes, it took me *quite* a while to realize that I need to try on shoes with my left foot. What can I say? I was young and stupid.)
(Yes, I said “was”.)
2. I name things. Anything around me. There’s no thought behind it, and definitely no structure. I always have. But when you have a big brother, you learn to suppress those tendencies. Especially since *everything* was a good reason to pummel me. (“Navin, come here; I’m happy!” *Pow*; “Navin, come here; you’re happy!” *Pow*). I still refer to my bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup as Jim. And you’ve already met Big Joe and Big Moe up there at 1. I stopped naming things (or at least, hid them better) after Castaway. Damn Wilson. (It’s no fun anymore when *everyone* has a name for things, and you get into arguments about how your name is stupid.)
(Incidentally, I’m typing this out on Sideshow Bob. He tends to get cranky if I don’t appreciate him enough.)
(He does not like to be called “Sidey”.)
3. I miss being fat. (Well, okay, maybe “obese” is the right word.) I *really* loved it. It was so nice to be expected to do nothing because of my weight. And when you’re growing up, everybody appreciates the fact that you eat all the food on the table.
(It was nice to be appreciated at dinners.)
4. I got attacked by a rogue swing when I was a tiny tot. It left me with a flap and parts of my skull showing. Now, all I have for memories of it are stories my brother’s told people. And a scar that was disappointingly un-cool.
5. I enjoy bad old hindi movies (By “old”, I mean before everything became sex-obsessed). Hell, I even enjoy watching bad English movies dubbed in Hindi! (I love how they keep playing Mortal Kombat 2: Annihilation on Bindaas Movies. Such fun!) I used to own a copy of Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya (the one with the infamous Salman Khan “O o jaane jaana”, um, hit?) and I used to watch it *over* and *over* again. Even after I stopped liking it. It was like a weird friend, who had very limited dialogue.
6. My school was a semi-all boys school (we had shifts; girls in the morning, boys in the afternoon). This led to a lot of ass-kicking. We had this whole phase in class where we used to randomly pick anybody, and, um, “celebrate their birthday” by beating them up, kicking their ass, bouncing them off tables and chairs, then just tossing them high up in the air, and watching them land on a bunch of wood-metal tables and chairs. After a point, it became an unofficial rule for everyone to wear their steel-toe boots to school because you want to cause maximum damage when you’re *not* on the receive end.
(Yes, we were slightly insane.)
(Trust me, you don’t want to know about our *other* “fun games”. *shudder*)
7. I used to pretend to cut school in my senior years. My friends were always looking to pretend that they were going to school, avoid the bus, then head to the nearest mall and change into regular clothes. Unfortunately, I was pretty honest with my folks, and so, I couldn’t really cut class in all good faith. So, I told them I’d be skipping a day, and they were pretty cool with it… so long as a> it wasn’t too regular a habit, b> I didn’t get caught and c> I wasn’t doing anything “bad” (ie: smoking, and then, drinking.) But you can’t really tell that to your “cool” friends. So, every time, I’d go along with the ruse, pack a bag with books *and* clothes, tell my folks I’m going to hang out at so-and-so mall, and go hang out with the gang. It used to be fun pretending that I didn’t want my parents to catch me, because then “I’d be so screwed”.
(Ah, peer pressure.)
*sigh*
Please don’t stop being my friend.
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