Found via browngirl, and cellio, and epi_lj, and otherdeb, and….
“I know very little about some of the people on my friends’ list. Some people I know relatively well. I read your fic, or we have something else in common and we chat occasionally. Some of you I hardly know at all. Perhaps you lurk, for whatever reason. But you friended me and I thank you.
But here’s a thought: why not take this opportunity to tell me a little something about yourself. Any old thing at all. Just so the next time I see your name I can say: “Ah, there’s so and so…she likes spinach.”
I’d love it if every single person who friended me would do this. Yes, even you people who I know really well. Then post this in your own journal.”
magid
When I was three, I managed to bite through my tongue hard enough to need stitches.
browngirl
*giggle*
Lessee…
When I was 2 I ran off down the street naked and nearly was lost.
aiglet
To continue the theme of “little kid stories” — there are almost no pictures of me from when I was little where I’m smiling, because I used to mug for the camera so much my stepfather told me not to every time he took a photo.
kitanzi
I think you know all of my stories. *G* Did I tell you about falling down the stairs on my second birthday and breaking my arm? And the pictures from afterwards of me with a big cast and chocolate cake smeared EVERYWHERE?
epi_lj
I have a scar on my head that you can’t see well (due to hair) that was caused by my Dad accidentally slamming the car trunk on my head hard enough that I passed out, was brought to the hospital and require stitches.
mrlogic
I fell off a platform at school when I was about 4 and got a concussion and stitches. Somewhere under my hair there’s a scar…
But this doesn’t tell you much about me. (Or, on second thought, maybe it does.)
I don’t like spinach. I love broccoli, though.
I have a fanatical interest in language…
kightp
I’m an orphan, but I didn’t get that way till I was 41.
tigerbright
I didn’t meet more than two people with my very common first name until I went to college.
cellio
My family moved to Pennsylvania when I was three (from southern California). This turns out to have been late enough that I did not acquire the local language oddities, such as an aversion to the phrase “to be” or certain vocabulary (“yunz”, “redd up”, etc).
catalana
Okay, little kid stories.
I’m a daddy’s girl. And my father really likes little girls -- he should, he had three of us! (Actually, there’s a funny story there, too. When mom went in for some kind of test or other, the doctor said I was probably going to be a boy, since I had a slow heartbeat. (Apparently this is one way they predict gender -- boys have slower heartrates than girls, at least in the womb.) And Dad said “No. It’s just a very calm girl.” *laugh* I don’t know about calm, but I’m a girl at least.)
Anyway, Dad liked little kids, especially girls, and we lived in a neighborhood with a fair number of other kids. So we’d often run into other parents with their kids and he’d say hi. Well, apparently whenever I thought he was paying too much attention to them I would run up, grab his leg, and go “My Daddy!” (I was under 5, okay?)
noghri
To keep in line with the “When I was young” stories:
When I was young, my mom had to coerce me to eat my potatoes by telling me “potato stories” that my siblings and father listened raptly to. Treasures told included “Alice in Potato Land”, and “Snow White and the Seven Potatoes”.
And I still don’t like potatoes.
pocketnaomi
I panic when asked to talk about myself.
sraun
Hmm -- can I think of a little kid story? I’m certain my mother could -- but I can’t on demand.
LMB & Liaden Universe (Sharon Lee & Steve Miller) addict & pusher. I own the Croation Winterfair Gifts and a Russian omnibus of Conflict of Honors, Agent of Change and Carpe Diem -- and I read no language other than English!
Lover of small dogs.
mihrimah
I had this serious space freak going on when I was a kid, and wanted to be an astronaut. They don’t let seriously vision-impaired folks on the Shuttle, though.
mokatiki
storys
heh, kid storys…
i remember when i was very little lying in bed and having my step-grandmother come and say good night to me, without her teeth in! i was so scared that i had nightmares for years!
bercilakslady
I like spinach when properly prepared (lightly sauteed with lots of garlic).
When I was knee high to my father, he took me out shopping, and I didn’t want to get back into the car to go home. So I started screaming “this is not my daddy!” at the top of my lungs. People didn’t believe it, and I was taken home. Probably they didn’t believe it cause I look just like my Dad.
bardling
As a child my favourite stuffed animal was a small rabbit lying down with all four legs akimbo. (So not very rabbitty, I guess…) I loved it so much I went through two incarnations.
grey_lady
hmmm….
It’s hard to think of something on the fly. But how about:
When I’m in a group of people discussing what restaurant to go to, I generally request “not a seafood restaurant”. It isn’t that I don’t like fish -- I’m just picky about it. But not so picky that I won’t happily go to Red Lobster and order clam chowder and popcorn shrimp.
joecoustic
I’m full of contradictions (I’m a restless wandering homebody, a loner who loves to be surrounded by people, shy yet love to be on stage, and many more.), I like being a devil’s advocate, and I don’t mind spinach ;).
Sorry for the canned response I’m posting everyone in response to this meme today but I’m just too tired to think :).
katyhh
Let’s see … I like hugs 🙂 I like spinach, too 😉 (And olives *laugh*).
Oh, and I like being in the spotlight much less than people might think … actually I prefer to be there only when I sing.
HUGS 🙂
filkerdave
As a child, I tried to jump over a lawn chair set up in the garage. I almost made it, but caught my foot on it and fell face-first onto the garage floor. Managed to bust my two front teeth.
alymid
more kid stories …
My nickname when I was little was Eci -- because I couldn’t pronounce my own name. I kept it until almost 12 when the kids got old enough to turn it into Easy -- I forceably dropped it like a hot stone and never went back …
maedbh7
For all the talking about me I do in my own journal, I can think of nothing sufficiently interesting about myself to say to you in your journal. -H… 😀
fairestcat
Ooh, little kid stories. When I was two, my parents lost me one night. They got up one morning and I wasn’t in my bed. They searched the house from top to bottom and couldn’t find me anywhere.
They finally woke up my nanny, Maria (the daughter of some family friends, who looked after me during the day and lived in our basement) to have her help them search and that’s when they found me. Without turning on any lights I’d walked down 2 separate flights of stairs, the last ones the steep wooden ones to the basement and climbed in bed with Maria, crawling completely under the covers and under her so that you couldn’t see that I was in the bed at all until she got out.
hitchhiker
I’m a programming language junkie
themouseshouse
Hmm. When I was 10 or so, I didn’t like veggies (still don’t really) and had a stepfather who was determined to forcefeed me peas. I bit him.
oreouk
When we lived in San Francisco I once (age about 7) went off to Chinatown with only a friend of the same age (and probably without telling our parents) and didn’t come home for ages. Man, did I get in trouble!
oilygrrl
I don’t remember doing it, but my mother swears that when I was four I would watch Sesame Street and “take notes,” trying to copy down the letters and numbers.
lysana
I still sleep with a teddy bear. And a plush hedgehog. The hedgie allows the bear to stick out far enough for me to not feel like I have to crush my breasts with my arm in order to sleep.
redaxe
Kids’ stuff theme…hrm…
I taught myself to read at 2. I also have several nasty scars from the period, including one where my head banged the dashboard (just below the hairline, now *g*) and one where my teech cut through my lower lip, when I was in a bad car crash at 4 or so. Unsurprisingly, I am an outspoken proponent of child car seats and other safety measures.
nolly
I like spinach.
I learned to read by 2.5 or so. My parents discovered this when my father was sick one day and I read him Hop On Pop. An interesting choice, I think.
otherdeb
Little Kid Stories
Hmm --
I read my first prose version of the Iliad when I was about 11; I had a Betsy McCall doll that I dragged with me everywhere when I was about 6; I have always preferred cats to dogs; I didn’t learn to ride a bike as a little kid -- I learned when I was 14.
neonnurse
One of my earliest memories is carrying a glass of Coke to someone, probably my dad. I can ‘see’ the house around me quite well. Strangely, I do NOT remember falling on a glass and slicing my palm open all the way across. In those days (48 years ago) it was widely believed that little babies don’t feel pain (!), so my mom was instructed to hold me still (!!!) while someone crudely stitched up the cut, sans anesthetic.
I had a violent phobic reaction to needles and doctors for almost 20 years after that.
catsittingstill
I was in a car crash when I was seven or so. The van I was riding in had a rear wheel come off on the freeway; it rolled across two lanes of oncoming traffic and came to rest in the ditch on the far side. Somewhere in this mess (off the road, fortunately) I popped out of my father’s enclosing arms. (There was no middle seatbelt in the van--otherwise I would have been in it; my parents were very strict about that.) I fell out the passenger side door and cracked my head on something, splitting the scalp open.
I remember almost nothing about it, except that we’d been going to the coast to see sea stars, and then suddenly I was sitting in a ditch crying because my head hurt and Dad kept insisting on *pressing* on it. I had to go to the emergency room and get stitches and it was uncomfortable and I was *very* good about it--and when all that grown up messing about was done, we weren’t going to the coast to see sea stars after all! I was very upset about that.
peteralway
In spite of the fact that almost everyone I read on LJ is named cat something or something cat or kit or mew or has a cat avatar or posts about thier cats, I have a dirty little secret. I really don’t like cats at all. Those reptilian slit eyes and that sleasy Elvis-like walk and the uncertainty about being jumped on creep me out.
I like rabbits, though. Live with two bunny pals, Frida and Rudy.
musicmutt
Me?
Well, when I was a lad, or so my mother tells me, I ran with a very unusual crowd. I didn’t have many frinds but the neighborhood dogs used to hang around my place witing for me to come out. I did my first alpine bicycle tour when I was thirteen and banded my first golden eagle in Southern Sakatchewan five years later.l
mathochist
When I was a boy…
Er, no. Wait.
When I was one, my parents were doing some work in the yard and/or basement and had left me to wander around. There was an open glass gallon jug of blackberry poison (that is, poison to kill blackberry bushes. And blackberry bushes are *tough*, so this is nasty stuff) with just a fraction of an inch left in the bottom of it. They’d figured I was no way strong enough to lift or tip the jug, so they weren’t worried about me getting into it.
They found me repeatedly dipping a strip I’d torn from a newspaper into the jug and sucking it off.
When I’d held the ipecac syrup at the hospital for so long that the doctor had given up on it working, he decided that if I was tough enough to hold that, I must be okay, and sent me home. The ipecac finally worked… in the car on the way home.
khavrinen
Another Bujold Listee
The summer before first grade, one of the neighbor kids had a plastic “kiddie pool” set up in their back yard. A couple of days after my Mom had told me not to come in the back door/kitchen dripping wet, I fell on the edge of the pool and gashed myself along my lower left ribs; some thirty-odd years later I still have a scar.
Because my Mom happened to be in the basement doing laundry (too far away to hear) I think I stood on the back porch for ten minutes calling for her, dripping blood, because I wasn’t supposed to go in wet and I didn’t want to get blood on my towel. After she bandaged me, she explained that sometimes it is OK to break the rules, in an emergency…
pafuts
When I met my husband, Scott, I owned 75 pairs of shoes.
plaid_dragon
I’m picky about spinach. I like baby spinach, but I only like cooked mature spinach the way my friend, Lisa, makes it.
Can’t think of any kiddie stories at the moment, but when I was at university, Lisa and I got thrown out of church for laughing!
Anonymous
more kid stuff
(Callie here): I’m told that when I was three I was already singing… _Hello Dolly_, as it happens. Guess I’ve just had music in my soul since very very young.
I like spinach, AND broccoli… as long as they are either fresh, or cooked-from-frozen.
I do not like ANY canned vegetables except occasionally canned corn, and that, mostly in specific recipes.
Canned soup is okay though. Go figure.