Okay, I’m cheating, the “M” stands for meme, but I just found this on Tribe’s blog.
1) I’m not superstitious, but I act as if I am. I don’t walk under ladders (but, really, it’s unsafe) and I hate the no. 13. You’ll notice that if comments here stall at 13, I’ll usually post again, just to get the number going. That said, I sneer at cities that have no 13th floors listed in their elevators, just jump to 14. Baltimore acknowledges the existence of 13th floors.
2) I re-read children’s books, particulary young adult books written in the 1950s and early 60s. Lenora Mattingly Weber, Anne Emery and Rosamond DuJardin are my favorites, in that order.
3) My mother still gives me an Easter basket every year, although it’s now down to one delightful object. (Last year was a porcelain pill box, shaped like a carrot.)
4) When I used to climb the two flights of stairs to the Sun newsroom, I often recited “If They Ask Me, I Could Write a Book” in my head. “A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I never learned to spell, at least not well . . .” And when I was younger, my father realized that I counted the broken stripes on the highway as they disappeared beneath the car. To his credit, he didn’t get weirded out by this.
5) I eat peanut M&M’s in a bizarre and wholly ritualistic way that I simply cannot divulge in detail here.
Back to my galleys.