If you follow me on Twitter, then you probably know quite a lot about me. I’m not shy, in that respect, I talk about anything and everything. But various factors aside, there are still things that nobody knows about me. So, I’m going to share five things about me that nobody really knows.
1. I wanted to be a mechanic or a chef.
For as long as I can remember I’ve always enjoyed two things: baking and playing around with DIY/mechanical objects.
At some point, a long time ago, I decided that it would be very useful to know how to fix my car if/when I have one that needs fixing. It was an idea I played around with for a number of years and when anyone asked what I wanted to do, I would tell them just that. Looking back, I don’t know how I could have possibly thought I’d be able to become a mechanic. The idea seems ridiculous now. Though I still enjoy playing around with DIY, my bicycle, etc.
As for being a chef, well, I’m not sure at which point I decided that would be my path. Being an avid baker made me see cooking in a very different way, it made me consider the possibility that I could make food for other people. My parents bought me a chef’s hat with my name on it for a birthday or Christmas and my uncle loved to share his cooking knowledge with me. How I ever thought I could be a chef, however, is beyond me. What I love is to make cakes and bread, I like to make soups and lasagne and other foods occasionally. But to do it for a living? I’m glad that idea didn’t stick.
2. My first computer was full of boobs.
Funny story, my parents decided to get a second hand computer because my sister’s friend’s family were getting rid of one of their old ones. This was in the days where computers were grey, the box was huge and the monitor needed a whole desk to be placed on. Nobody wiped their computers, internet security was an alien concept but apparently boobs were still very much a part of computers/the internet. So we received this computer, loaded it up and there on the screen was a background filled with half naked ladies. I can’t remember what my parents thought of that, but looking back, it probably wasn’t the best thing to bring into a home with children.
I wasn’t as tech-savvy as I am now, I was only twelve/thirteen at the time. My parents still need my help to do some basic tasks (like removing programs from their computer), so we were stuck with random boob related items for a long while. Probably until the floppy disk computer was thrown away.
3. I have three very random scars.
The first of my scars is a chicken pox scar beside my right eye. I quite like it, it’s a bit different and it’s always been there for as long as I can remember. It’s not that random, I suppose, as others will probably have similar scars. But I suppose, how many have one right beside their eye?
The second is a set of two fingernail marks in my chin. That’s right fingernail marks. How did I get them? I’m not actually that sure. When I was a young child I went hurtling down a hill on a bicycle that didn’t have any breaks (it also had solid rubber tyres – probably wouldn’t be allowed these days) and I ended up crashing into the kerb. I had to get butterfly stitches on my chin. I can only assume the two incidents were linked. Perhaps I lifted my hand up to protect my face and caught my chin. I’m not sure.
The final scar isn’t even much of a scar. If you looked hard enough, you probably wouldn’t find it, even if you knew that it was on my left leg. It’s only small and it looks like I might have cut the side of my knee at one point. The only thing that helps you to distinguish the mark on my knee is the hairs. If the hairs on my leg are there, then you will notice that the hairs in that patch of my leg grow in the opposite direction. Instead of growing down, they grow up. It’s odd and I kind of like it. When my cousin (who is now twenty-one) was a baby, before the days of safer bottle warming, my parents warmed his bottle up in a jug of boiling hot water. We were looking after him, and my small child self decided that I’d take a look at said jug of water. It spilled. My whole leg was burned. I spent a portion of my life thinking I’d spent the weeks after in a cast. I didn’t, it was bandages. I can’t even remember if it hurt or not. It probably did. Now I’m left with the randomness of backwards hairs and a small, nearly invisible scar.
4. I once locked my aunt and uncle out of their house, and didn’t tell anybody.
I’m not even sure they know, now, what really happened. They had one of those locks; I think it was a Yale-type lock. You had to unlock it from the outside, no matter what, with a key. And on the inside, you could flick a little button to one side if you wanted to keep the door unlocked/locked from both sides.
I flicked that button to the other side and the metal thing was out of in. I was young; I didn’t know what I was doing.
We went out, or maybe they took me home, I can’t remember which, and they couldn’t get back in their house. Someone had to break their back door in order to get back into the house.
I must have been old enough to understand, enough, because I recall knowing that I had caused that problem. I didn’t know in the moment I did it, but I knew later that I had caused the door to stay locked.
5. I used to play the cello.
I was at primary school. Some of my classmates had learnt to play the recorder, some had learnt the flute. Others were given the chance, in school, to learn to violin. I was one of three children who were given the chance to play the cello. I wasn’t that good, mostly because I never practiced. But I spent a couple of years playing it and I passed a couple of exams I had to do for it, as well. If you asked me to play something now, I wouldn’t be able to. But I would know how to set the cello up, how to wax(?) the bow and where to place the fingers/bow.