I remember that, when I was about thirteen, a disgruntled Physical Education teacher told me that I’d never win anything more than, perhaps, a good loser award.
Well, in sporting terms she was right: I’ll be the first to admit that my performance in the annual cross-country race was less than inspiring, and that anyone in need of a tennis partner would do well not to look in my direction. But in more general terms she has just been proved wrong – because I have been nominated for a Kreativ Blogger Award!
Woo-hoo! Take that, Mrs Hartstill, in the unlikely event that you’re reading this!
There’s a sense in which I’m just as surprised as Mrs Hartstill would no doubt be by this news. I’ve been blogging for a very short length of time. My blog currently attracts an average of about two or three visits a day. I really don’t think I’m particularly creative – I can’t boast any whacky graphics or particularly fascinating reflections or insights. Nor am I prolific: I blog only when I think I’ve something at least mildly interesting to say, and as a result am currently averaging about two posts per month.
In blogging terms, I am a minnow – a little minnow in an ocean full of whales. And no, there’s nothing particularly creative – or indeed kreativ – about that metaphor, either.
Still, nominated I have been. The first condition of this nomination is apparently that I must display the Kreativ Blogger Award badge on my blog. The second condition is that I thank and link back to the blogger who was kind enough to nominate me. So, in best award ceremony fashion, my thanks are due to the delightful Aniko Carmean, without whom none of this would have been possible. Aniko is no mean blogger herself, and a visit to her blog is highly recommended. (Also, if you like horror, the chances are you’ll love her novel Stolen Climates, available to buy or borrow on Amazon.)
Condition Number Three is that I mention seven facts about myself. I can’t hope to be as inventive as Aniko herself was with this task, so I’m just going to take the path of least resistance and note down seven mildly interesting particulars about myself…
1. I once had a girly crush.
Nothing very unusual about that, you might say. However, this particular crush was ill-fated from the start, given that the object of my juvenile affections was even more unattainable than the singers and actors who usually bedeck the bedroom walls of young girls. It wasn’t that he was rich, famous and remote, and therefore unlikely to take a shine to an underage girl from South Wales. Oh no. It was the even more discouraging fact that he didn’t even exist.
Yes, I was in love with no less a person than Barney Rubble, of The Flintstones fame.
Why? Don’t ask me. Perhaps it was the animal skin tunic.
2. Speaking of childish crushes…
…I once tried to impress the handsome new boy at school by showing off how well I could climb the ropes in the school gym. I lost my grip, fell, and sprained my ankle. Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed.
3. I met my husband in Vicenza, Italy.
We went to visit the Teatro Olimpico together. Our first real date was in Verona, the city of Romeo and Juliet, where he proposed outside the Roman amphitheatre. Who says romance is dead?
All right, that’s enough about my romantic fortunes and misfortunes now.
4. I’ve been to many a supposedly haunted place…
…but the only time I felt even remotely scared was during a visit to the Edinburgh Vaults. Nothing happened, apart from a few strange sounds which probably had an altogether earthly provenance, but the place scared me half to death. I screamed like a girl at one point.
I’d advise anyone with steady nerves to go and visit.
5. I’m a synaesthete and taste words.
“Decision” tastes like coconut. “Suggestion” is, to me, suggestive only of chocolate biscuits. Anyone going by the name of “Emma” makes me think of lemon drizzle cake. Spare a thought for the city of Paris, mention of which causes me to taste chalk. Not that I go around eating chalk, of course.
Until somebody pointed out to me that this was rather unusual, I thought it was entirely normal.
6. I once had a bad case of quinsy.
Or “peritonsillar abscess”, if you prefer the medical term. Highly uncomfortable it was too. Imagine that someone has rammed their fist down your throat and grabbed one of your tonsils and is twisting it – hard – and you’re getting close to the unbearable pain that is quinsy.
7. I sort of like Boris Johnson.
(He’s the Mayor of London, in case you’re not British and are wondering.)
I think he’s sort of sweet, even though I suspect that his bumbling exterior conceals a mind of penetrating brilliance. Perhaps.
Anyway, that’s enough trivia about me.
Another rule governing the nomination is that I have to nominate seven other bloggers. I’m quite happy to do so, but it’s going to take a little while. If anyone has any suggestions (ooh, that taste of chocolate biscuits) please leave a comment or contact me.
Once again, thank you Aniko!