Seven Random Things

So, the rules say that you're supposed to tag 7 more people, but the people who tagged me also tagged everyone I can thing of to tag (or at least everyone who might play along) so I'm going to skip the tagging part, and go right to the random:

1. My random noise issue involves pounding, banging and knocking sounds--I've obviously read too many books about police states (or I have a guilty conscience?), because my first instinct when I hear a banging noise is that the KBG/NKVD/FSB is about to break down the door to take me to the gulag. It's worse when the noise wakes me up.

2. As a result, I knock really, really, really quietly on people's doors--I regularly knock so quietly that no one inside can hear me, and I have to call to let them know I'm there. Without the cell phone, I'd probably still be standing on a doorstep somewhere.

3. I caught something called Fifth Disease when I was in elementary school. All I remember about it was that it made my face incredibly itchy, and that the medicine which was supposed to stop the itching tasted like cinnamon. (Looking at that description, that's basically all there is to the disease for most people, although not everyone needs anti-itch medicine.) It's called fifth disease because it's the fifth rash-causing illness that kids used to get, but doctors no longer know what the fourth disease even was.

[It's the next day, because it turns out I think of random, internet-appropriate things much more slowly than I expected. Good thing I decided not to try to tag 7 people, or I'd never post this list!]

4. Back to 2 for a second: I used to listen to my stereo so quietly that my college roommate once came into our room when I was listening to music (without headphones) and turned on her stereo. She's the sweetest, most considerate person ever, so I'm absolutely certain she just hadn't heard my music.

5. I tend to read the same books over and over, especially the ones I own and know well (although I do also read new books, I swear). It's like visiting friends (even though they're often strange, dysfunctional friends who probably wouldn't like me much if they knew me back). What's funny is that 2 of the books I reread the most often (Smilla's Sense of Snow, by Peter Hoeg and Einstein's Dreams, by Alan Lightman, I don't even own. I regularly check Smilla out of the library, and I used to have Einstein's Dreams, but I gave it to a friend.

6. I read Einstein's Dreams (a series of very short pieces about the dreams Einstein had while he was developing the theory of relativity--each one is about a world with a different nature of time, but I swear it's much better and less geeky than that just sounded!) when I was sad or worried about something, and just didn't want to think about whatever it was any longer. It's a short book, and when I finished I always felt as though my brain had just been washed thoroughly: as if my mind was empty, very clean, and slightly tired, but at least not thinking about the worrisome thing any longer. Kind of like it a long run (and a shower) for the brain. It sounds crazy, but the friend I loaned it to felt the same way after he read it.

7. Smilla's Sense of Snow, on the other hand, I love partly because I covet Smilla's wardrobe (and for other reasons too, of course: how separate she is from the society she has to live in, the way she belongs somewhere she can't be, the descriptions of snow, the characters, the plot...). But the clothes thing is kind of shallow, huh?