- I always forget how short I am until I see pictures of myself next to regular sized people. Most people know I'm short, but not how short (5' 0.5").
- Growing up, our Grandpa Ed called the four of us "The Indians". He'd never get away with that now, though. In that vein, I call my three children "The Heathi" or "3 Heathens".
- Though I've made my career working in medicine and teaching medical specialties students, medicine is not what I wanted to do when I grew up. It's something I'm good at, and I kind of fell into it. What I really wanted to be when I grew up was a firefighter. Or a sign language interpreter. I was interested in medicine, but had no desire to make it my career. I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.
- The very first book I wrote was fanfic before fanfic was even a genre. My best friend and I started writing about the Jacksons (yes, those Jacksons) back in sixth or seventh grade. I still have the four or five 3-ring binders filled with 1,200 hand-written pages tucked away in a box somewhere.
- I have tattoos. That's something that always stuns my students. They've never seen them, because I started in medicine when tattoos were absolutely forbidden, so they're easily hidden by scrubs. I want one of Skeeter's brand and I want to add 'Molon labe' to the one Jay designed for me.
- Despite my job being to stand up in front of people and talk, I'm absolutely an introvert. Our place out in the middle of the corn fields, our horses, and books are all I need to be content. It takes me days to recover from social activity - including family gatherings and the huge BBQs Jay and I host throughout the summer. It's easier to interact with people I already know and love, but put me in with strangers and - wow - it's all I can do to keep it together.
- Nebalee is pretty certain I fall somewhere along the spectrum, primarily because of my dislike of noise (and my need to touch things - I like textures).
- I have confinement anxiety. I don't like small spaces I can't get out of and I don't like being surrounded by a lot of people. I can usually talk myself through situations that require me to behave, but there are times when it ain't happening. Once, I had an claustrophobic anxiety attack just putting on a wet suit. I couldn't get it on past my calves before I started to melt down. I just could not do it.
Oh! Oh! Here's one: Without exception, every single one of my exes has gone on to marry the very next person they dated. The very next one. And they usually started dating them within days/weeks of us breaking up. No joke. I'm not sure what that says about me, but there it is.