...that i was named after my dad. who happens to be named 'carl.' when i tell people i was named after my dad, the next question i get is, "oh, what's his name?" "carl," i reply. and then i get really weird looks from the inquirer. i was indeed named after my dad. if my memory serves me correctly, the story goes as follows: my parents wanted to name one of their children after my dad. my sister was born first, so they named her 'staci.' if i had been a boy, i would've been named 'carl, III.' but, since i popped out a girl, my parents named me my dad's nickname. i just realized that those of you who don't know me in real life have no idea what my name is. suffice it to say that it's a unique name and one that i always got teased for. but that's okay. i love it now because people remember me and they always say, "wow! what a great name. it fits you very well!"
...that i played 3rd base during my younger years and was a fabulous ball player. i had the best throwing arm in the county and was recruited to play on the all-star team. i never played for my high school though because the season conflicted with our spring musical. the coach offered to work around my rehearsal schedule, but i had too much fun with my theatre friends and turned her down. by this time, i was also having lots of issues with my arm. i suffered from tendonitis and was encouraged by my doctor to hang up my mitt. i wore a brace for a while, but even still now i'll have periods of discomfort if i type for a long time. i also blame the tendonitis for my terrible penmanship.
...that my oldest daughter, leah, was born as a result of the 9-11 attacks. the world around us was falling apart and with such horrible people in this world, super jas and i decided to do a little good. our beautiful baby girl proved that there are still good things to cherish. she symbolized love and hope and growth for us in a time when our world was forever changed by evil.
...i once placed 2nd in a pig wrestling contest in high school. pig wrestling was always a HUGE event at our local fair. one year, three friends and i decided to try our hand at it. we duct taped our shoes to our feet and wore matching t-shirts. i remember grabbing hold of the pigs back leg and having it drag me through the mud pit. i cut my knee on something at the bottom of the pit. a rock? glass? i'm not sure, but it hurt like hell. i thought it needed stitches, but my parents must've thought otherwise because i let it heal of it's own. i now bear an impressive scar that has a small pebble in it. the best part though was after the wrestling match when the fire department was there to hose off all of the competitors. it is a memory i will never forget!
...i cut off a portion of my left big toe in the lawnmower. thankfully, i had on tennis shoes. if i hadn't, i know for a fact i would only have 9 toes to call my own. embarrassingly enough, it was during the summer of 1998 when i was home from college. the lawnmower got caught on the curb and the blade made this terrible sound as it scraped against the concrete. i lifted up the side of the lawnmower that had fallen off the curb and kicked it with my left foot to get it going again. that's when my foot slipped and went right into the blade underneath. it ripped my shoe to shreds and cut through my big toe. thankfully, the doctors were able to sew my toe back together. i do have a cone-shaped toe though. it's kind of cool.
...i'm an open book. ask questions, folks, and you shall receive answers!
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