Back then I focused on an inspection of self, a serious look at some of my unique characteristics.
Having done this before, one might wonder why I’d do it again.
Simple answer: Because this time I’m approaching it from a less introspective point of view. Oh, and because there are always another seven weird things about me that I probably haven’t already mentioned in such a context.
- My deadly allergy to ants, wasps, and bees notwithstanding, I’m not allergic to poison ivy, sumac, or oak. I lay in it (ivy) during a game of hide-and-seek, I manhandled it (ivy and oak) as part of a lawn cleanup, and I stood in it (sumac and ivy) up to my knees at Lake Tawakoni as I investigated the giant spider web last year, yet never have I reacted to any of them. At all. The same is true for the fungus that causes ringworm (having touched it far too many times from childhood to adulthood while remaining unscathed).
- Fleas don’t bother me. I don’t mean I ignore them while they munch on me; I do mean they don’t bite me and they rarely even jump on me. I guess I’m not tasty enough…or I smell bad. In either case, others can be inundated by them while I stand around wondering what the fuss is all about.
- I have an extremely high drug tolerance thanks to my father (who also blessed me with the lack of allergies noted in #1). Whether it’s needing three times the normal Novocaine at the dentist’s office, finding no benefit from things like hydrocodone and antihistamines, or being able to drink far more than others before feeling the slightest buzz, I spend my life explaining time and again why I can’t take one thing or another, or why I need far more of something than everyone else, and all because my metabolism dispatches such things with utter abandon and excruciating speed that render them useless.
- Eyes, lips, nipples, chest, voice—then everything else. In order of importance from first to last. You figure it out.
- Despite my deadly allergy to wasps, my favorite insect is one of the world’s largest species: cicada-killer wasps (Sphecius speciosus). There is a massive colony of these behemoths that thrives just outside my front door and around my patio. Talk about living on the edge…
- I’m terrible with relationships of any kind. Family, friends, lovers…They’re all the same to me, tragic examples of why I’m difficult to live with. This is probably why I have a few very close friends and a great many casual friends. But I would gladly die for those I love.
- Roaches freak me out. I love insects, as you know, yet I become a childish wimp when it comes to any species of roach. I run screaming when I see one. Go figure.
So there you go. More bizarre nonsense that you never needed or wanted to know, yet a closer look inside the life of yours truly.