Week Three - Free Write -- Meitner's Lists.

So, when Erika Meitner came to Dr. Davidson's 3200 class, she had us all write three lists: "I am an expert at...," "I know nothing about...," and "I never want to write about...". I decided to put the first two those lists on here, as well as add several entries to them, and do a couple of lists of my own, possibly as a method of pulling from it later:

I am an expert at:
-Falling down the stairs
-Unconsciously avoiding the consumption of Southern food
-Working for an idiot
-Cutting a birthday cake/ruining a birthday cake
-Booking birthday parties
-Detangling/untying knots
-Making a clover-shape with my tongue
-Stumbling upon used book stores
-Leaving my belongings at other people's homes
-Hosting Murder Mystery games

I know absolutely nothing about:
-How to become a US citizen
-De-clawing a cat
-Breakups
-Why people submit themselves to energy drinks
-How to perform any surgery: dental, heart, brain, knee, gallbladder removal, vasectomies.
-Running a game of Laser Tag
-Owning a raccoon, kangaroo, python, platapus, octopus, teridactyl

I am disgusted by (this list is currently making me cringe just writing it):
-the feeling of palms against palms. This includes handshakes
-mustard
-personal drink bottles touched by other people
-the smell of bleach
-writing with ink on skin
-touching frozen french fries

I remember when:
-My dad couldn't come to my Solar System play in the 4th grade because he had a meeting at work. I was #4 on the asteroid belt.
-Getting a Girl Scout badge with my friend Krystie by helping at one of my dad's Goodwill stores. We had to sort through all of the disgusting clothing and put the correct tag colors on them.
-My little sister crawled in to a glass vase that was on a black tripod base. We walked into the room to find the baby surrounded by glass and marbles.
-My mom said she wouldn't be paying for my wedding. I was 12.
-I bloodied my mouth when I was jumping on a couch at Ikea and I jumped into one that was mounted on the wall. I was four. I was given a cinnabon to calm me down. Now, whenever I smell cinnamon, I think about Ikea and bloody lips.
-Two boys on my block convinced me that the marks in the dirt were alien footprints.