71. I am ridiculous when it comes to recycling. I rip the plastic from windowed envelopes, wash the Styrofoam trays from the supermarket that once carried my meat and even pick through what Keith’s thrown in the trash to make sure I haven’t missed anything.
72. If I had my way, I’d have an account with a florist so I could have fresh flowers in every room in my house at all times. I wouldn’t allow any sort of Oriental lily but the Sumatra though; the rests’ fragrance give me the worst headache.
73. I can’t swim. I mean, I can do my version of a doggie-paddle, and I can do a backstroke, and I can float really well, but that’s pretty much it. This is in spite of swimming lessons too. I think the fact that I can’t go underwater without holding my nose has a lot to do with this.
74. When I was younger, I had really creative names for my stuffed bear, dragon, pig, armadillo and dog. I called them The Bear, The Dragon, The Pig, The Armadillo and The Dog. I also used to keep track on my Baby-Sitters Club calendar of which animal I slept with each night, and rotated amongst them so none of them would feel jealous or left out. (I happened to take a photo of them — with the exception of The Dog, a chocolate-brown Pound Puppy — when I was in New York this past October.)
75. I can’t justify spending a lot of money on clothes until my weight stops fluctuating, but I can always justify the cost of a pretty pair of shoes or a really nice bag. After all, I can wear those regardless of what size dress I’ve got on.