…not electronically though I may deserve it, but by Elizabeth Baines. See her post, explaining the set up, here. Briefly, I have to share eight random and/or embarrassing facts and/or moments about myself with you, then tag eight more people to do the same thing. It’s a sort of pyramid shaming device, which looks as though it might be quite good fun, though I’d always thought that writing fiction was the most efficient way of broadcasting this kind of information. (See the details on cruising in Rome in my story in NW15 for proof of this.) Still, I’m ready to give it a go, a little later than promised. Here are the instructions:
“Each player starts with eight random facts/habits or embarrassing things about themselves. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.”
1. On particularly hot days, particularly when I’m invigilating exams, my Birkenstock sandals fart.
2. I was once arrested for stealing a milk bottle (full) from a step. The fine was £6 plus the cost of a bottle of gold top. I later used the summons to make a very badly-rolled joint.
3. I have bags full of second-hand clothes in my wardrobe, bought at the local Sunday market and never worn or, indeed, looked at a second time. I must throw them out.
4. I can’t bear Joseph Conrad.
5. As a student I once said that I really liked Heinz spaghetti with lots of grated cheese in it, claiming that it was as good as ‘the real thing’, which I’d never actually eaten. I recklessly offered to prepare it for a bunch of friends, who said yes. I’ll never forget the sinking feeling as I dished it out from the pan. One of them, now famous and a bit of a foodie, has had the generosity never to mention this. (He may have forgotten.)
6. Rings make my fingers look infantile.
7. I was deflowered by a man of the cloth.
8. When I was nineteen I turned down an offer from Lawrence Ferlinghetti himself to work at City Lights Bookshop. I’ve never regretted it.
I’m not sure I can think of eight people. Let’s see.
No, I can’t. That’s it. But I’ll keep on thinking.