Tagged!

So, I probably should have posted at least three times at this point, blogging-wise. To sum up, I came to college, went home, and came back. It's going great. Also, it has eaten up pretty much all the free time I used to spend blogging (and writing email, and reading recreationally, and...).

But, I seem to have been tagged. This seems to be some sort of viral game traveling the internet, eating up people's truths and spitting them out in a form that is much the same or rather, is, in fact, the same.

I post this on my blog, and then it will get imported to Facebook by the friendly Internet Faeries.

The rules:

Link the person who tagged you.
Tell seven truths about yourself.
Tag seven new people. (Certain Facebookers will soon feel my wrath.)

Hmm, seven TRUTHS? Oh my... This could get dangerous. Watch for flying fallacies (they're green, and they look kind of like fish, except in tutus [I seem to be feeling very random tonight]).

1. I have nearly read through the complete works of Mark Twain. The only stragglers are A Tramp Abroad, which is a really thick travel book, Following the Equator, same description, and Joan of Arc, a really thick history book that Twain considered his greatest work. Also, I read his Autobiography kind of loopily: I've read the first quarter or so and the last several chapters several times, and the middle chapters all at least once, though none of this in the correct order.

2. Related to number 1, I think that the best way to get to know someone who writes frequently is through their writing. Through being such a nerd, I feel I have gotten to know Mr. Clemens rather well, insofar as one man is ever able to know another. This may be because he put so much of himself into his writing, and because I have sought out the posthumously published stuff that was often very personal and perhaps shouldn't have seen the light of day. There have been times, however, that I have looked at things and situations and thought I knew what Mr. Twain would say, if he were here. Also, I think I reveal more of myself in my stories than I ever do to most people.

3. As for the dating thing, I hardly ever get asked if I have a girlfriend. Except by my grandparents, who immediately jump to the conclusion that I am, ahem, beating the girls off with sticks. While I have some vague plans and hopes in this department, I am not concerned at all about my "single" status, and I consider the mass of people's obsession with dating rather disgusting. If I say much more on this, I will be on for hours, and will either end up in cynicism or sentimentalism, neither of which is a desirable result. So I'll end here.

4. Some people seem to consider me wise, or some such. I am not wise. I do, however, seem to be a good listener, and I have a policy that if my friends need someone to talk to, they can literally tell me anything. If it's wanted, I do try to offer my advice, for what it's worth. Usually it's "Go talk to somebody who knows more about [this subject] than me."

5. I know more about movies and movie stars and directors and even film genres from 60-80 years ago than I do about modern movies... and I love it that way.

6. I am completely unsatisfied with the current level of my writing. I'm talking fiction here, the stuff I really care about. I can see the level I'd like to write at, and I can sort of see how to get there, I'm just not there yet. And I know the only way to get there involves time and practice. It's a tad annoying.

7. Unlike my psych- er, brother, I actually like revealing things about myself. If you want to know something, ask.