No this is not going to be another post with lots of expletives deleted. Rest easy with regard to that. It is, however going to be another award/meme thing. Granted some of you seem to love what I do with these things, but this one is another variation of the 5/6/7/8/9/now 10 random/weird/unusual/secret things about yourself.
Those of you who have been reading me for a long time know I have done this irritating, infernal meme enough times that were I to reveal much more out here in the blogosphere I might have to gain an X rating or at the very least require a blood test and some sort of long term commitment from all of you (and if all that isn't enough here is a list of 101 facts about myself and here are 100 things I have done, seriously how much more can I share???). Unfortunately, Michelle H., who bestowed this upon me, is a relatively new reader as we've only recently made each other's acquaintance through Suldog.
I am tempted to do to Michelle what Suldog does to those who award him, which is to filet them, and quite deftly at that. I can't say he goes on to roast them because it's more like being presented with fugu, which sounds like it ought to be an expletive deleted but really is just a mass of freshly killed, still quivering piece of finely butchered fish that may just kill you if it hasn't been done with skill.
The problem is I like Michelle (which I recognize doesn't stop Suldog from sharpening his knives and we all love him for it). I can't even pick on her for the way she spells her name. You see, I feel very strongly about the proper spelling of our shared name. It requires 2 L's NOT one. Those girls who spell it with a single L (and I can't even bring myself to type it out that way because of the inherent wrongness of it) really can't be trusted. They are a shifty lot always trying to skate by on less than what it required. Of course, I also object on the grounds of French grammar and rules of feminization of a name. Since our name is derived from the French boy's name Michel it means the final consonant must be doubled before the final E is added. Listen I didn't take 4 years of French in high school and win "La Premiere Etudiante" for nothing! Besides all that, our name means "Who is like God?" Ok, so it doesn't come out and say WE are but there is certainly the suggestion of godliness and who am I to mess with someone who gets the spelling right AND may be reflecting the Most High Himself.
Now I know the other Michelle is a little bit younger than I am so perhaps by the time she went through school the name was not as in vogue as when I was a kid. There were always at least 2 of us in any class I ever had. In the early elementary grades when there were always a bunch of Michael's too I found it highly annoying that when classmates handed out papers they couldn't read well enough to tell the difference between Michael and Michelle. There were a lot of moments when I'd be handed Michael's papers and wonder why my grade was so abysmal only to realize that wasn't my handwriting, my name, OR my grade...thanks be to God (the real one).
That was frustrating, but even worse was 4th grade when there were 4 Michelles in my class. I am pretty sure only 2 of us spelled the name properly but of course when the name is spoken you can't tell how it's spelled (see how shifty they are?). In any event, we were in Mr. Kulakowsky's class (K-U-L-A-K-O-W-S-K-Y, *I spit on the ground* His [expletive deleted] name was on every [expletive deleted] spelling test all year). This man is the reason why I completely loathe the song Michelle, Ma Belle. He used to sing it every.single.day. It's not just because he sang the song that I hate it. He was just the most horrible man who never should have been a teacher. He played favorites. He intentionally lost the homework of students he didn't like. He was arrogance personified. He punished with overly harsh sentences. And finally, he very nearly cost me my life. No, I am not exaggerating.
We had begun one of those spelling tests which always contained his name when I began to feel extremely unwell. I was nauseous, dizzy, and suddenly itchy from head to toe. I raised my hand to go to the nurse and was told I had to wait until the end of the spelling test. As the list of words went on I felt worse and worse and could barely concentrate. The girl sitting next to me became very alarmed and asked what was wrong because I was suddenly white as a sheet and had bumps all over my face. I begged to go to the nurse again and was told no. Now, it was readily apparent to another 4th grade student that something was seriously wrong, but Mr. Kulakowsky *I spit on the ground* was unrelenting. I was to finish the test first. By the time I was permitted to go to the nurse I was so out of it I could barely get to the office. By the time the nurse reached my mother and she arrived at the school my face was so swollen she walked past me in the nurse's office and didn't recognize me. By the time I got to a doctor he told my mother I was moment's away from needing a tracheotomy because my throat was nearly closed. I was having an anaphylactic reaction but you know, the correct spelling of one (expletive deleted) teacher's name was far more important than all of that. Since this was the first time I'd ever had that sort of reaction to anything I had no Epipen available. (I still have to wonder why the nurse just let me sit in a chair in a separate room rather than calling an ambulance or staying with me.) But just to show him, all is well, I'd like to take him out for a fugu dinner.
We had begun one of those spelling tests which always contained his name when I began to feel extremely unwell. I was nauseous, dizzy, and suddenly itchy from head to toe. I raised my hand to go to the nurse and was told I had to wait until the end of the spelling test. As the list of words went on I felt worse and worse and could barely concentrate. The girl sitting next to me became very alarmed and asked what was wrong because I was suddenly white as a sheet and had bumps all over my face. I begged to go to the nurse again and was told no. Now, it was readily apparent to another 4th grade student that something was seriously wrong, but Mr. Kulakowsky *I spit on the ground* was unrelenting. I was to finish the test first. By the time I was permitted to go to the nurse I was so out of it I could barely get to the office. By the time the nurse reached my mother and she arrived at the school my face was so swollen she walked past me in the nurse's office and didn't recognize me. By the time I got to a doctor he told my mother I was moment's away from needing a tracheotomy because my throat was nearly closed. I was having an anaphylactic reaction but you know, the correct spelling of one (expletive deleted) teacher's name was far more important than all of that. Since this was the first time I'd ever had that sort of reaction to anything I had no Epipen available. (I still have to wonder why the nurse just let me sit in a chair in a separate room rather than calling an ambulance or staying with me.) But just to show him, all is well, I'd like to take him out for a fugu dinner.
So, this particular post contains at least 10 never-before-revealed-on-this-blog facts about myself. According to the rules I am supposed to pass this one to 10 more people so...
1. Anyone who has a double letter in his or her name.
2. Anyone who speaks more than one language.
3. Anyone with delusions of grandeur
4. Anyone who has eaten fugu.
5. Anyone who is a good speller.
6. Anyone who blesses the folks who invented spellcheck.
7. Anyone who hates a song with his or her name in it.
8. Anyone who has a drug allergy.
9. Anyone who shared a class with someone whose name they also shared.
10. Anyone who has nothing better to do.
