I've been tagged...first time ever!

I have the opportunity to say eight things about myself. Hmmm

1. When I was very small I fell out of the moving car. Apparently I said quite matter-of-factly “Dig. I fell out of the car”. Nobody knows to this day what I meant by it.
2. I’m going to have a bacon sarnie and coffee for breakfast.
3. I try not to generalise but - I don’t give a shit who/what you worship and whether you wear a veil or any other kind of headwear. If, however, you blow, or cut*, people up I consider you a shit whatever sort of head gear you wear. (I think that goes for agreeing with blowing up people up too and definitely goes for ordering people to blow people up). I may consider you a damaged, sensitive, oppressed, brainwashed, stupid, helpless, compromised human being too but I will always respect you enough to consider you able to make a choice. So if you blow people up (etc) I still think you’re a shit. Oh and in case I haven’t made myself clear, I don’t give a shit for any reasons you may think you have for blowing up etc etc.
4. I am so lucky I can’t believe it. If you enjoy life at all you are so lucky too. Should us lucky people feel guilty? I don’t think so. Just give a bit back if we can.
5. I like my tea and coffee in a bone china mug thank you and the bacon sarnie was delicious Oh and I forgot to say, if you do wear veils or other unusual headgear I won’t assume you’re either a nun or a terrorist…after all, whenever I go to hot places I wear funny hats and all my children wear evil looking sunglasses.
6. I weighed around 8 stone till I got my first full time job, 9 stone till I had children, 10 stone till I gave up smoking for 3 years and 11 stone till now. (with some latitude during pregnancy - 12 stone and spreading feet - and during the last five years - 11 and ½ stone - and during two or three years when I was depressed - 9 and ½ stone). Depending on what life changing things happen next I expect to weigh at least 12 stone after I die (if only for a day or two).
7. I used to get nearly all my clothes from charity shops. Um, now I seem to get them from proper shops…I may have to start donating to charity in some other way.
8. When I was very small (but not saying ‘dig’, as a general comment on life and events, any more) I was sent to bed for my after-lunch rest and something large, fast and black ran across my pillow. I ran screaming, all the way back up miles of tall dark corridor and cried “MUMMYDADDY THERES A HUGE SPIDER IN MY BED AND IT’S ENORMOUS AND BLACK AND IT’S GOT A HUNDRED LEGS!!!!!!!!!” Daddy said “a hundred legs? Are you sure?”

So 14 or so years later I was walking along a corridor at home and I SAW A HUGE SPIDER WITH 100 LEGS running away from me down the corridor. It was the same spider…exactly… in every detail…down to the four legs and the little round ears and bright eyes and the long tail.

And I'm supposed to tag someone else. Anyone want to be tagged?**

*Obviously I don't mean surgeons who cut people up as long as they're careful and respectful.
**Frangelita...She's a good egg :)