The Little Meme That Could

I've been tagged by this textile babe on FB and Mr.Bob via his noodly blog.

The conceit of this thing, that of supplying 25 sordid factoids about oneself, has already been stretched much too far and by far too many like a petty prophylactic across Time's interminable member. Evidence has recently been discovered by certain literary historians that even the Bard was once manipulated, perhaps by a jealous Anne Hathaway who hoped desperately of revealing once and for all the true identity of the Dark Lady, into parting with a random 25 of his own most personal truths. So before the damn thing finally gives in to all of internetkind's onanistic strain, here's some of my own germinal spew:

1) I have of late begun to feel my age. In my shoulders.
2) A year ago I took a half-hour long online test for manic depression that resulted in a scarily high score. I've been using this as an excuse for my bad behaviour ever since.
3) I need variety, pace and a lot of gimmickry in whatever work I do. And I get bored very, very, very, very very very easily. I exhibit this boredom with the most classic response: by dropping everything and going into hibernation/running away.
4) My room is a mess right now, but I plan on cleaning it tomorrow. As if you care.
5) I have a mild flu, for which I've been taking woozy-making antihistamines. I'm riding the stupor by pretending to be a series of movie characters. It's a real pity that you're not here to watch.
6) 26 years of age, and I still don't know what I'm going to be when I grow up.
7) A rider to the previous confession: I don't ever want to be a boring adult. Never ever.
8) I currently have enough money/money-making prospects to last me through the next few months (touch wood), but in all conventional senses of the term I'm quite unemployed.
9) I have a major weakness for pizza.
10) I have an even bigger weakness for the blues (the music, not the feeling).
11) I also fall immediately and hopelessly in love with practically every pretty, well-spoken and funny woman I meet. I meet a lot of them, and it causes me all kinds of woodyallenesque paranoia.
12) A fun blockbuster-type Hollywood movie (or) a top-notch British comedy any day beats all other modes of entertainment (except maybe a trip to the amusement park, or a live blues performance, or sex, or smoking up with old friends, or... um...)
13) A combination of the previous four points (minus the paranoia) is my idea of heaven, in whatever form or order.
14) I think that the concepts of faith and morality, as per popular notions of the four major religions of the world, are grossly overrated.
15) I've hero-worshipped Stephen Fry ever since I first watched QI.
16) I enjoy taking long walks at unreasonable times of night when no one else is about + I haven't shaved in a week = in the last five days I've been pulled up twice by different configurations of the neighbourhood constabulary for vagrancy and suspicious behaviour. They all have records of my address, occupation and father's name now.
17) I reconcile my twin passions for travel and staying at home by largely ignoring the former and indulging the latter.
18) I read in the loo. This is common info, but no one knows the details: only poetry, non-fiction, heavy literature and Mint. Go on, be judgmental.
19) I enjoy dancing to Bollywood remixes. There. I've gone and said it now.
20) I'm seriously running out of things to say, so I'm going to go off and walk around my terrace for ten minutes.
21) I'm back from a cup of chai, a smoke and some general meandering, and I'm still at a loss.
22) Once I get started on a freelance project -- writing, illustration, design, co-ordinating something, whatever -- I can turn into a raging workaholic, keep at it for four or five days continuously with minimal sleep, nutrition and excursions to the outside world. The trouble, always, is getting started. It sometimes takes me a month of "getting into the mood" before I can accomplish a few days' worth of concerted work. I'm a complete and remorseless slave to inertia. Some of my old clients won't even talk to me any more. But I'm getting better (man!)
23) I was bitten on the leg by a cockroach yesterday. It was quite painful. I killed the little bastard with a hiking boot.
24) I used to be fantastically cute as a child.
25) I might've gone and blabbed more than I should've in all this. Screw it, who gives a toss.

I tag:
Abhinav who just might sportingly take this up,
Samanth who definitely won't, but I'm hoping he'll at least leave the usual sarcastic comment or half,
Dev, a nice chap who got me a watermelon and a bag full of musambis in terrible times of illness and decay, so I forgive him even if he doesn't,
Nish, whose blog, inert for two years now, is overdue for a revival,
and Shruti who's, um, hard to predict.

Bobo/Suhana: you're buying me a drink the next time we meet.