Dude, you're totally tagged

OMG! I've never been officially tagged, at least as far as I know (which is my lame way of saying that if I ever have been, I didn't know it because I didn't see the post, oh, dear.) Schweet!

Five things you don't know about me

1. I'm a chronic starter and a shitty finisher. Unfortunately Husband and I share the latter. This means we have Something To Finish in every room in the house. That's not necessarily a bad thing, because it means that we've worked our way throughout the whole place. So yay us. But it also means that there are lots of small things, all why-didn't-we-do-this-shit-sooner? stuff. There are baseboards that need to be put back, trim that needs a second coat of paint, etc. I have lots of crafty things (curtains for Perp's closet) that I haven't managed to finish. Having two small kids in the house don't make it easier.

2. I can read as many as five books at one time. I generally do. It takes me forever to finish one, of course, but somehow it feels like I'm saving time by piling them on. Hi, I'm NWB, and I'm an idiot.

3. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Ideas range from science writer to organic farmer. Toss in pediatric nurse, epidemiologist, and something to do with animals and you pretty much cover the gamut. I have TOO many interests to figure out which one to settle on. I hope the kids have a better handle on their desires for their lives.

4. I have wicked tics and I could make them much better if I took meds but the side effects are worse than the tics, so I just muddle along. No one ever says anything, though they're impossible to not notice. I have been diagnosed by one doc as having Tourette and another as having dystonia (a catch-all dx if I ever heard one). I worry that it is TS and that it will affect Perp or Dude (it's more likely to hit him than her), or that their friends will tease them about it. But I can't bring myself to get treated given the potential problems from the meds. When I first decided to try and get treatment, I was so dopey that I fell asleep in the john at work. For half an hour. Toss in the odds of developing tardive dyskinesia, Parkinson-like symptoms, tachycardia, and oh, that pesky sudden and unexpected death thing, well... you get where I'm going. So I tic merrily along and figure that it hasn't stopped me from getting hired or married or making friends, and if other people can ignore it, so can I. Clearly I can't but I'm trying.

5. I bake a mean sourdough. French-style, so it's got that crusty, chewy, tastiness on the outside and fluffy airiness on the inside. It's all in the starter. I have a great starter. Just yesterday it burst out of its container on its quest to take over the world. I beat it back with a KitchenAid mixer. I think I've finally gotten it down right, and I plan on blind baking a bunch of loaves and tossing them into the freezer. Then I can lob them at my enemies give them to people as gifts. They also make fabulous croutons.

Since I'm ever the nosey one, I think Amy,
Devan, Kerryn (Hellloooo?! Are you still down there?)
Shelli and Dyke One should tag along. Feed my inner snoop!