When my mother took me to the library, I’d sneak off to the poetry section to look for sexual metaphors in Victorian verse.
The first time I read a poem in public, my mouth was so dry that my lips stuck to my teeth, and my hand shook so badly I couldn’t hold a glass of water to take a drink.
I met my husband after last call in the Brown Derby Luv Pub, a bar with a lighted, blinking, multicolor dance floor, in Independence, Ohio.
I have what I call inattentive clumsiness. My mother once grabbed me from walking straight into traffic in downtown Cleveland.
I am easily distracted. A crumb on a table. A humming noise. An itch.
I tripped onstage in the first play I starred in. That was the last play I starred in.
I had strange compulsions when I was a girl, such as thinking if walked past the picture window at night three times without freaking out, my parents wouldn’t die in a car wreck.
I played flute in my high school marching band and orchestra. I also played the organ.
I am 100% Finn. My parents never taught me the Finnish language so they could talk without me understanding. I’m sure most of what they said was about me.
I have a habit of predicting or dissecting plots aloud during TV shows and movies. My family hates me for this.
As a picture framing designer, I was given projects no one else could do. My favorite job was designing and framing a signed jacket by Ron Woods of The Rolling Stones.
I make purses out of book covers, and can’t wait to make one from my own book.