The Late Bloomers: I know you didn't ask, but still...

Who knew that the never-ending TMI on this blog would result in an award?

My blog friend Tara was kind enough to offer The Late Bloomers the Honest Scrap Award! I knew Tara was a kindred spirit when she wrote this post about watching my favorite movie. I was so moved that I spent entirely too much time writing my own post about it. But oh, it was fun.

To accept this award, I need to:

list ten honest things about myself
nominate five other bloggers

10 Honest Things About Myself

Let me start off by saying that I already feel sorry for you that you're reading this list. When you're done, you may curse yourself for giving up 90 seconds of your life that you'll never get back. Consider yourself warned.

I could drink Coke by the gallon. While sucking on a lemon. This can be an expensive habit. I was almost shamed into giving it up when I discovered in college that my parents hid Coke from me when I came home to visit. Keyword: almost.
I kinda sorta want a Snuggie. When I first saw the commercials, I thought it was the stupidest thing I ever saw. But, somewhere along the way, my heart changed and I began to feel a sense of longing. Shame caused me to keep this longing hidden, especially as Internet ridicule of the Snuggie and its cousin, the Slanket, increased (like here, which made me laugh so much). And I can understand the ridicule. I once counted myself among the hecklers. But then I saw that someone I highly respect gave in to her desire. So I finally got up the nerve to tell my husband. More ridicule ensued, which has so far kept me from running out and making the purchase, but, as in the Coke situation above, I have a feeling that shame will not keep me from fulfilling my desires.
I honestly and truly dislike the taste of water. And don't tell me that water doesn't have a taste. With all the chemicals they put in bottled water, there's some kind of after-taste going on. I find Ozarka to be the most offensive. If you can bring me a glass of water straight from a mountain stream, I'll be willing to re-evaluate.
I love to watch my husband nap. He just looks so peaceful and relaxed and his mouth does this cute little pucker thing. I would take a picture and post it but suspect that would be crossing some sort of line. So you'll just have to trust me on this.
My clumsiness knows no limits. Just this morning as I was making breakfast I dropped a freshly-cooked slice of French toast and a slice of banana on the floor. I've been known to fall down the stairs (three times), walk into a glass door (once), and walk into walls and doorways (countless times). I don't know what's wrong with me.
I love sushi. Wait, you don't understand. I reallllly loooove sushi! Seriously. As a matter of fact, I prefer to eat raw salmon over cooked salmon. Spicy tuna rolls, shrimp tempura rolls, and anything with cream cheese and avocado. Oh, be still my heart.
I like the smell of gasoline. Hold on a minute - don't picture me sniffing gasoline in a closet somewhere. I'm just saying that when I have to pump gas, I don't hate it. That's all.
When I first met my husband, I asked myself, "Could I kiss those lips?" The answer is yes, yes I can. And I have. Many, many, many times.
There is no end to my hair. I was born with a head full of hair. Growing up I called it the "mane" (as in lion). Many women look forward to having thick luxuriant hair during pregnancy (because not as much hair falls out), but not me. I neeeeeed for hair to fall out. It is OUT OF CONTROL.
I am the anti-athlete. I've tried to be athletic and sporty. I really have. I've thrown myself into Ultimate Frisbee, physical training lessons, and an ill-fated two weeks of Boot Camp at my church. All to no avail. The only things I got out of it was a sprained ankle, a growing awareness of my asthma, and a T-shirt.