1. What’s the most daring thing you’ve ever done?
Hmm. Daring can mean a lot of things. If you mean actual “risk of death”, then it would have to be going skydiving. I went with a bunch of girls from my dorm (“The Parachutin’ Weasels!”) during Senior Week ’99. If you mean “courage I didn’t know I had”, that would be sticking out that first week in London by myself. I had no money, no friends, and an intimidating new job. It took every bit of nerve not to cut my losses and head home.
2. What one thing would you like to try that your mother/friend/significant other would never approve of?
Well, the Snook’s pretty liberal. I can’t really think of anything that would offend him that I would actually care to do. Now, my mother on the other hand…
3. On a scale of 1-10, what’s your risk factor? (1=never take risks, 10=it’s a lifestyle)
I’d say I’m probably a 4. I do the occasional risky thing but for the most part I’m pretty meek. I don’t do extreme sports; I don’t take drugs; I don’t gamble. I’m pretty boring, actually.
4. What’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you as a result of being bold/risky?
If I hadn’t stayed in London… I wouldn’t have met the Snook. He’s the best.
5. … and what’s the worst?
I’ve had my navel pierced twice and it never healed properly and I now have a scary mutant little scar there. My navel doesn’t like being pierced. No more extreme body manipulation for me.
One response
Maybe I should start skydiving in a group then call our group, “The Freefalling Ferrets.”
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!