I've been tagged.  And it's funny, I was just reading Obi's blog with him saying that he was tagged and I thought - "what the heck does it mean to be tagged?" .... so thank you Tracy for tagging me.  Never been tagged before.   Here's his blog on being tagged.

Ok, first the rules (apparently there are rules to being tagged.  Who knew?)

1)  Link to the person's blog who tagged you. (Done, see above)

2)  Post these rules on your blog.

3) List seven random and/or wierd facts about yourself.

4)  Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

5)  Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

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Thea's wierd facts:

1)  I don't eat wheat or wheat derived products.  This is not by choice but by necessity.  My body does not process the wheat very well, so I am on a strict "gluten free" diet.  Consequently, I have lost some weight that I've been trying to take off for years - but when they pass the bread basket, I want to tear someone's arm off.  Oh well. 

2)  I love studying social deviancy.   Call it a fetish of mine.  I just love to see how people tick, why gangs form, why kids are truant, why people drink and smoke and do all those little nasty things that say "damn the Man."  Therefore, I seem to be attracted to deviant people - that's not an invitation, just a notation.

3)  I hate phones.  I'm the last person who would ever say "oh, I'm calling just to chat."  What is 'chatting' anyway?  It's like somone had this generic phone call back in the day and it kept repeating itself over and over.  "Hello?  Yes I'm fine, how are you?  Yes, kids are fine too.  Works good.  It's cold there?  It's warm here.  Yup.  Well, nice talking, bye!"  What was all that for, really, except to wipe 10 minutes off of your boredome?  Really.  It took 3 years before my significant other could even get me to CARRY a phone.  I hate the thing.  Now we're talking blackberries, so I can get phone AND email messages that don't do anything.  Wonderful.

4)  I've never broken a bone.

5)  My name cannot be pronounced in spanish, which is wierd because both of my parents and all of my relatives are Puerto Rican.  It's the TH you see.  You can't say Cynthia in spanish because there's no TH.  Over the years, it's morphed into Sindia, Sylvia, Cindi.... I've asked my mother why she would do such a thing, she just said that it sounded pretty.  How would she know?  She couldn't pronounce it.

6)  As an added corollary, I don't have a middle name.  Both of my sisters have one, but not me.  I can't think of one of my spanish relatives that DOESN'T have a middle name.  It comes with the heritage - spanish people ALWAYS have more than first and last.  My mother told me once that Cynthia (as well as being unpronounceable) was too long for a middle name.  Of course it was.  But my sister Yolanda Ivette should have no problems with a lengthy title like that.  Perhaps my mother was too busy trying to pronounce my first name to think of a middle name.  The world may never know.

7)  I don't understand lesbians.  Don't get me wrong, I like all types of people, and I have many gay friends and family.  My best friend is a lesbian.... I just don't get lesbians.  I mean, I'll take a guy over a girl any day.  Even a dull guy is so much easier to get along with than a girl.  Most girls I know are so high maintenance.  Back me up on this guys.  Between the hair, the weight issues, the SHOES!!!! Omigod, the friggen shoes.   Nope, I just don't get girls.  I'm a girl, sure, but I'm not THAT much of a girl.  I do my own hair, I don't paint gunk on my nails unless I have to, I have 4 - 5 pair of shoes (multi occasional), I don't bring tissues to movies... in comparison, guys can be so ZEN. 

Ok, so there you have it - seven wierd little factoids about little ol me.  Now.... who shall I tag?

Matthew's always a good choice.
Burt, the Dreamkeeper
Clovis, our Ugandan Prince
Artist X.... who is this guy?
Manisha!!! I miss you, honey.  Big hugs to you and yours.
Alex, been a while!  Hope you're doing well
Truth will set you free.

Thomas is a poet on Zaadz that I've recently become acquanted with.  I usually don't point out people like this, but Thomas sent me a poem which I felt merited some special attention. 

First, let me say, it was LONG.  When I first got his friend invitation 4 months ago, I quickly opened it, scanned the contents and said - "when can I finish all that, buddy?".... fortunately I did not dismiss it entirely - I kept it.  I've been very spotty on Zaadz and I wanted to make a point this year of really giving Zaadz a larger commitment.  After all, I started out pretty strong, I opened up the florida Zaadz group for people to mingle, I've even made good friends here, face to face.  There is so much potential.  So, to start this month off right, I took a second look at that email. 

I took the time to read the poem.  Every word.  I pictured everything in my mind, like a story and just kept going.  This is rare for me, as I don't generally have the patience for poetry.  I'm reminded too much of the works of Dr Seuss and it makes me feel a little silly.  But this poem was very touching.  I wanted to give a blurb here and introduce you all to it because it's the kind of poem that give me hope that there are other people out there who feel the way I feel.  He's just better at saying it, is all.

When peace is found one heart at a time.

The nations will follow down the line.

For when you realize you are your brother.

You can no longer hurt one another.

REMEMBER these words when you go to your jobs tomorrow, when you order your food at the restaurant, when you honk your horn at the slow driver, and ESPECIALLY when you vote.

Thank you Thomas, and please keep writing those lovely rhymes.

Namaste
Thea