The First Award I've Won since High School

When I was in high school, I was a total awards slut: "I know you thought I loved you, National Merit Scholarship, but sorry, I sort of just fell into bed with the Latin Club presidency last night and got Eiffel Towered by the University of Indianapolis Contest's Poetry and Creative Nonfiction categories, plus Indiana University's High School Journalism Institute has been sending me racy text messages."

But after graduation, I kind of stopped being the best overachiever ever to walk the grassy plains of the tri-state region, much less the world. So I didn't really win many awards and haven't again... until Friday.

This is big news, guys, which is why I canceled Fixation Friday today in lieu of a post about my recent honor. A huge thank you to Alone... with Cats for deeming me worthy of the Versatile Blogger Award as well as anyone who ever reads my blog. I started it as a way to update my family and friends back in the Midwest on my personal life, but then I realized it was unsustainable and it was way more entertaining to blog about popsicles, food poisoning, science, and fashion dilemmas. It ain't much, but I like writing it, and I like when you read it, so thanks! You're awesome.

This award apparently has no official certificate, website, ceremony, or even really qualifications (because if it did, I sure wouldn't have received it), but I understand it works in this manner:
  • Thank the person who gave you this award.
  • Share seven things about yourself.
  • Pass the award along to 15 bloggers whom you have recently discovered and who you think are fantastic!
Done and done on the gratitude. Now, seven things about myself... I don't know if I can come up with an overarching theme on this except for "embarrassing stories." Since my brain lives at 3825 Memory Lane, Apt. WTF, enjoy this brief trip to its home, and perhaps gain an understanding of why I am so bizarre:

1. One time in sixth grade at a Steak & Shake after a swim meet, I decided to impress this guy I had a crush on from fourth grade through high school by eating one of those shriveled jalapeno peppers in the jar of "hot sauce" (more like spicy water, amirite?). I downed five glasses of water and nearly cried. I don't think he was impressed.

2. When I was in middle school, I made it my life's work to learn all of the lyrics to every rap song on the radio so that I could sing along at the North Deanery dances and look cool (I didn't look cool).

3. It was Cinco de Mayo in my college town, and it was precisely two months after I had turned 21. I went with a group to the Coliseum, where a friend was bartending. We ordered margarita after margarita and who knows what else?

Further evidence that the Earth is out to get me.

I finished the night by being unable to lift my head from where it had fallen on the wire table, crying for probably an hour over how I felt like nobody liked me, trying to order more beer, and doing a faceplant into a bush. That bush apparently was flowering at the time because the next morning, I blew my nose, and a flower came out into the tissue.

4. I ran away from home three times growing up. Every time, I wouldn't get more than a few blocks before my dad would roll up in the police cruiser and yell at me to get in the car. This would be followed by lectures from my parents on how to stop being an ungrateful little b*tch (not their words). Then I would hide in my room and cry at how unfair life was and write terrible child poetry in which I'd rhyme "dad" with "mad" and "sad." It's hilarious now, but at the time it seemed so very tragic.

5. Up until probably seventh grade, I played the most ridiculous games with my friends at recess. A lot of them involved one or more of us playing the parts of babies.
a) Castle Four Square: There were usually about eight of us. Half of us would hang in the 1 and 2 squares and be in the palace: the king, queen, prince, and (of course) a baby princess. The 3 and 4 squares would be the peasantry. The goal of the game was not actually to play four square -- that was more of an incidental occurrence. The objective was to advance into the palace by tricking the baby princess to come to the plebeian side. Why the princess would oblige is still a mystery; we all knew what was up.
b) Pirate Babies: When my friends and I were the first group of kids to get on the playground, we pretended it was a pirate ship... operated by babies. We all performed various imaginary pirate ship functions, but we never went ashore or attacked other ships (babies suck at a lot of things, most notably pirate ship operation). A friend and I, however, did the weather channel: One of the slides was slick enough that we could hold onto the overhead beam above where you'd sit to go down the slide and walk on it like a treadmill, so that's obviously where we gave our extremely accurate weather report.
c) Coated Crusaders: We were a pack of superheros with ridiculous names (One friend was Donut while I had to be Peanut Butter -- UNJUST) and powers that were directly tied to the patterns on our jackets. When anyone got a new jacket, she lost her old abilities but gained new ones. I had a purple jacket with stripes on the inside, so my power was making a big jail around stuff. I think I got the raw end of this game.

6. I was kind of a big deal in spelling bees growing up. I made it to something major, like regionals, and lost on "succulent." Insignificant, you say? My fragile ego was shattered, I tell you.

7. My little brother had just been born, and a whole bunch of family members came over. I was the oldest, and only for a while, so I was used to being the center of attention. But there was a new baby (and a perfectly adorable one at that), and my dramatic five-year-old brain was envious. I concocted a harebrained plot to make people love me again: I immediately "contracted" a mysterious "illness" that left me unable to use my legs. This wasn't enough to attract the notice of the adults in the house, so I had no choice but to use my arms to pull myself around on the floor when I needed to get anywhere.

More effective than polio vaccinations.

Little did I know that the grown-ups were on to my little game the whole time and brought me some Baskin Robbins. Suddenly, I could walk! I was cured! Ice cream saved my life!


Now I'm supposed to name 15 (recently discovered?) bloggers who also deserve this award. Does anyone else feel like that's pushing it, like that's maybe too big of an arbitrary number? I'll try:

Agent Lover
Emily Nagoski: Sex Nerd

Crap, that's only 14. I guess it'll have to do. Feel free to print out, sign, and frame the certificate below:



  1. Anonymous21.5.10

    I ran away from home once when I was ten. and all I packed was my D&D supplies and some comic books. come to think of it not a lot has changed :p

  2. Somehow nose blowing out a flower is really awesome.

  3. Thank you so much for the honor, Sarah. I will post the award.

  4. I still don't know how to spell suc... whatever that word is.

  5. My head is no longer big enough to fit through the front door. Thanks *so* much, Sarah.

    No. 4's terrible child poetry reminds me of the Elton John song "Tinderbox," in which he sings, "Was he worried we would go to far, maybe wind up rhyming moon with June ..." But that's just testament to my mad skills at being able to link almost anything back to Elton John. Seriously. Try me.


Oh, you'd like to say something? Well, thanks to the relative anonymity of the Intertron, you can!