I Know You Call Me Beejay, But You Don’t Know Me

Sexy Versatile Blogger Award

Okay, you call it what you want, and I’ll call it what I want. So, my sweet friend over at Stopping the Wind, one of my favorite blogs, awarded me with a Versatile Blogger Award, for which I am very grateful. It is nice when someone takes the time to let you know they noticed what you’ve done, and it matters. So, my understanding of the award is that I am to nominate 5-10 other blogs and link to one of their posts. I spend way more time lurking than commenting, so it would likely shock people if I sprung an award on them. So, in order not to cause too many looks of consternation, I have nominated just a few below – my favorites:

  • Alica McKenna-Johnson – Arm Chair Adventures – author, foreign film fan, and all-around good person.
  • Cecilia G – The Kitchen Garden – life on a working farm, with some of the sweetest photographs you’ll find (there are baby lambs and piglet butts!)
  • True Design Living – requires harmony, and this artist, writer, and poet can help you find a bit
  • Aly Hughes Writes – so I think it would be cool if you, you know, read
  • Five Reflections – excellent haiku; is that not enough of a reason?

The rules of this are simple: go to my Paypal account, click “send money” … okay, I’m lying. To accept, identify 5 – 10 versatile bloggers in a post and list 7 things about yourself that your readers do not know. Given how much I blog, I’m not sure I can come up with 7 things you don’t know, but here goes:

  1. I was a good student, but I HATED school, and to make things worse, I a.) had undiagnosed ADD, b.) was painfully shy, and c.) moved a lot. Unfortunately, I also had d.) a quick temper, so add that to ADD, and you get a smart kid with impulse control. I got suspended at least once in every grade up through 8th grade. Several times, I was threatened with expulsion (which would have suited me just fine). In almost every case, I got in trouble for “insubordination.” In the 4th grade, I staged a coup d’etat, which resulted in our teacher resigning in mid-year.
  2. The idea for my first book came from the most vivid dream I ever had. Like my book, Discovery, the dream preceded my start of middle school. On a lark, I wrote that dream into a short story, which I eventually expanded into a book.
  3. I can’t run. For whatever reason, I have never been able to run more than a very short distance. However, at times I will peek at folks jogging on the treadmill at my gym, and discover that I walk faster than they jog.
  4. My books read like movies because my memory is visual. Basically, I think in broad concepts and pictures – maybe even more than words. I can still perfectly picture my 1st grade classroom, for instance. When I write, sometimes I sit in the dark with my eyes closed, and just type out the movie I see.
  5. I can remember almost everything that happened to me since I was 2. Yes, I said two. The key seems to be if I was feeling emotional – if I was, I remember it. I remember one incident when I was around 3 or 4. My mother was teasing me about my birthmark, which she laughingly told a friend I said was caused by a “truck running over me.” I remember being mad, because a.) I knew she had told me that when I was 2, and b.) it was a toy truck. I was 3, not stupid.
  6. In college, I knew so many women that most people thought I was gay, or a player. They were wrong. Women like me and I like them. It generally takes me less than 5 minutes to figure out if I love you. If it doesn’t happen by then, it never does. I think women like the fact that I am exactly who I claim to be. A very few never get that, which is sad in a way.
  7. I am equal parts logical and artistic. So much so that I exhibit traits of 2 different personality types (INTJ & ENFJ). They average out as ENTJ, which I never am. People who think they understand me, NEVER do. The people who understand me are those who don’t try to figure me out – they just ask questions. I’m easy … I tell the truth. That confuses people so much, it’s more effective than lying in terms of keeping one’s privacy.

And now, here’s a random photo of some cats.

Mr. Snowball and Mr. Smokes
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8 Replies to “I Know You Call Me Beejay, But You Don’t Know Me”

  1. Thank you so much for the award!! Now I can have a post for Wednesday. Is it okay that I feel a little bad for your teacher? I don’t lie either- I might not show aprts of myself or choose to hold my tounge, but I don’t lie not because of a moral thing- I just really suck at lying, it’s not worth it.

  2. No, you should have felt sorry for the teacher. In my defense, she wasn’t teaching, which pissed me off. Our substitute taught. All the other kids thought she was mean. I loved her. Mrs. Wintergreen, as I recall.

    I don’t have time to remember what lie I told to whom. It’s too much work.

    1. INTJ and ENFJ refer to Myers-Briggs (Jungian Personality Types. INTJ is Introverted Intuitive Thinking & Judging, which means someone who’s introverted, logical and organized. I am, when I’m working. ENFJ is Extroverted, Intuitive Feeling and Judging. That’s someone more outgoing, who makes decisions based on feeling or values, rather than logic. That’s me when I’m not working.

      I put some links there if you want more info. There are also free internet tests if you want to figure out your own type. I create Myers-Briggs profiles for all my lead characters, so that I know they will react and think consistently.

  3. Hey Bill, thank you for calling across the airwaves.. interesting reading about you typing in the dark with your eyes closed, this in itself is a startling visual image.! Have a great day.. work hard!! and thank you for your kind words.. celi

  4. Thanks for the nomination! I’ll have to check out the other nominees as well. 🙂

    I’m on the other end of the spectrum as far as memory goes! I don’t have short or long term memory loss exactly, but let’s just say by the time I go to bed I can barely remember what I ate all day!

  5. My daughter is like that (she gets her memory from her mom). I tell my daughter it’s like she never had a childhood, because she doesn’t remember any of it. If I didn’t have family photos as proof, she’d probably ask for ID when I tell her I’m her dad.

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