Sunday, August 13, 2006

lefties of the world, unite!

Apparently today, August 13, is International Left Handers Day. How have I managed to live for 31 years as a left-handed person and never know about this holiday? I've always loved being left handed because it has tradionally been associated with subversion and is something that makes me a little different from many of the people around me, and few things thrill me more than being different or subversive in any way. The only thing I hated about being left handed as a kid is the stupid lefties' scissors in grade school. For some reason they were always blunt, uncomfortable, and useless. And my entire life, I've always had ink stains on the side of my left hand, from the tip of my left pinky finger all the way to my left wrist---sometimes even further up my arm and on my sleeve---and my homework was always smudged. (For you righties out there who didn't realize this, as a lefty, when you write, your hand drags across the ink on the page before it's had a chance to dry, hence the ink-stained skin and smudged papers.)

Other than those minor annoyances, I'm glad I'm a lefty. It's likely one of the reasons I can play the violin; years ago, one of my violin teachers told me that a relatively high percentage of violinists---or fiddlers, for us folk-music lovers---are left handed. Of course, being a lefty also fits perfectly with my political and social beliefs. And if it's true that lefties are right-brained, well, then that explains a lot of why I love creativity and storytelling, but also why my life is sometimes a trainwreck and why I don't deal well with deadlines or too much structure.

Here are some of my famous fellow lefties. Yay for left-handed people!

P.S. I've broken two fingers on my left hand: my pinky when I was in kindergarten and horsing around in my bedroom when I was supposed to be asleep, and my middle finger a few years ago when I was trying to open a package of hot dogs (?!?!).


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