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100 things about me, #51-66:

51. I learned how to play chess when I was 5 years old. My chess career has been going downhill ever since.

52. I can’t stand mustard, eggs, or mayonnaise. Even to look at them.

53. I have a thing for pregnant women. Really. (But not real ones.)

54. And for trains and for libraries. Sex in them. Not that I’ve actually had sex in those venues, but I think I would enjoy it a great deal. But not as much as sex with an imaginary pregnant woman.

55. I love to play games. I don’t really much care what kind of games, but Scrabble is definitely my favorite.

56. I collect buttons and bumper stickers and books and music and dust.

57. I prefer to sleep on my belly. I can be comfortable sleeping on my side, though. I almost never sleep on my back, except for therapeutic purposes; when I do that (maybe once or twice a year) I sleep on the floor. I think that I think it’s good for me. I’m not sure if it really is. But it seems like a good idea.

58. I have one small hole in each ear. I had them put there when I was about 13 years old, because I had wanted my ears pierced for as long as I could remember at that point. The first time I saw my earlobes after having them pierced, I was plunged into grief and despair for my poor virgin earlobes ravaged by my vanity. They had been so nice before. So soft and peach-fuzzy and sweet. And now they had a hole in them. What on earth was I thinking?! Consequently, I have no other piercings.

59. I love cats. And trampolines. And Cinnabons.

60. I’m addicted to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s the only television I watch besides Star Trek.

61. I can’t hang with incense or burning sage or heavy perfumes. Really can’t hang with them. And in the past few days, I’ve been kind of sick—and when I’m sick I really can’t hang with them. It feels like the air is somehow not clean. Is slightly poisoned or something. I talked to my partner about this and she said that her mother has a clean air monitor type thingamajiggy. When the air is clean and all is well, it displays a green light. When things start to get funky with the air quality, the light turns yellow. When the air quality is really bad, it turns red. Apparently, as soon as she lights a stick of incense, it goes immediately from green to red. Doesn’t even go through yellow. Hearing this, I felt extremely validated. Usually, I just feel kind of picky and finicky. It kind of almost makes me want to keep a clean air monitor type thingamajiggy around. Just in case I need to feel validated in the future.

62. I do however, enjoy strong food smells. Yum. None of that weak food here, no ma’am.

63. Yes. I read all of the Harry Potter books. Twice, the second time out loud to my partner. And would do it again.

64. I once wrote letters to Lloyd Alexander, the individual who was my favorite author when I was a kid. He wrote a series of books called The Chronicles of Prydain (The Book of Three, The Black Cauldron, The Castle of Llyr, Taran Wanderer, and The High King—that last book winning the Newberry Award, the highest American prize for children’s books, as well it should have), which had the same effect on me at 12 that the Harry Potter books had on me at 20. He and I exchanged at least half a dozen letters which are among my most prized possessions to this day. The books are fabulous. You should read them. Particularly if you, like me, are still waiting (desperately) for Harry Potter 5 to come out.

65. I took my first yoga class last night. This yogini goddess woman was teaching the class. She’s one of my partner Andre’s best friends. I love her. She says she’ll teach me how to be a yogini goddess woman like her if we come live in Vermont. I’m seriously considering taking her up on her offer.

66. I got together with my partner Andre via a series of letter poems, which we like to refer to as “The Extraordinary Correspondence.” Kind of like the Griffin and Sabine books, but much, much better writing was involved. (This is not to put down Nick Bantok’s writing—he’s one of my favorite authors. He makes extravagantly fabulous books.) Ours just happened to be more extravagantly fabulous (as far as we’re concerned. No pictures, though.