Copylicious is turning 3 years old next month, and it’s time for me to be up front about a few things.

It seems I’ve managed to keep a good many things about myself to myself. In fact, today I made a list. I counted at least 22 things! That would be 22 key, life-shaping facts people who know me through the Internets or through working with me still don’t know about me. They’re not secrets or strategic omissions. They just never seem to come up. They can’t be simply dropped into conversation—professional or otherwise. I’ve tried. Haven’t found a way. Inspired and emboldened by Sarah Lacy’s recent shocking revelations (A secret origami obsession in her past? Admitted emotional outbursts caused by Jane Austen? Are you sure we weren’t separated at birth?), I’d like to attempt to remedy this error. Consider it my 3-Years-In-Business Truthiness Address.

1. My past indicates I seem to be drawn to working with convicted felons, people in crisis, and puppets.

Most people don’t know this, but I used to star in a live, Sesame-Street-like production for kids. Puppetry is where I learned it’s not what you say so much as how you say it. You wouldn’t believe the difference between “Father Abraham! Had Many Sons!” and “FATHER ABRAHAM HAD MANY SOOOOOOOONNNNNNS!!!!!” while whipping your wrist around in circles in a room full of 6- to 8-year-olds. I don’t understand why more serious actors don’t embrace puppetry. The shrieking laughter brought on by a live performance is more gratifying than anything a critic could ever write.

Working at the crisis line for a year (now there’s an awkward transition) wasn’t exactly what I’d call fun, but it was hard to ignore the feeling I was doing something that mattered. This is where I learned the basic principle that story is irrelevant. The details of what happened don’t matter nearly as much as we think they do. All the good stuff is in the feelings behind what happened. And what do you plan to do next to take care of yourself?

Pre-crisis line, I monitored felons at a halfway house in Santa Barbara. I really just entertained them by getting them to talk about their favorite books and betting them I could do a pull-up within 3 months or they’d have to read Roots by Alex Haley. Even then, it wasn’t about the job so much as finding a lightness, getting people excited about something beyond what was there.

2. As the recovering child of an amateur bodybuilder, I have attended more bodybuilding competitions than I care to remember.

Along the way, I have met Hulk Hogan, Jean Claude Van Damme, and this one female bodybuilder who confided in my 10-year-old self how difficult it was to date someone who was on steroids. I have been to Muscle Beach at Venice Beach more than 50 times. I know the caloric content and nutritional breakdown of a banana, 4 ounces of chicken breast, and a baked potato. I know the names of all the muscles and I know the weird adjectives judges use to describe “physiques.” It’s right at the top of my list of things it still feels weird to know. During this period, I also found time to attend The Masters of the Universe POWER TOUR! (basically He Man on Roller Skates) theatrical extravaganza. (It’s exactly what it sounds like. Click here to see photos of the program from this event.)

3. I can play the piano.

I even know a few songs by heart.

4. I always wear my helmet and I never ride alone.

A few weeks after graduating from college, I was hit by a truck on my bicycle at 4am on my way to work. Despite no helmet, my only injury was a fat lip (the police report mentioned a prominent red lipstick stain on the hood). Two weeks later, I was attacked on my bicycle by a migrant worker on his bicycle on a remote bike path near the beach—also, as it happens, at 4am (I managed to evade him using the old cartoon trick of slamming on the brakes and then speeding around him and finally hiding in the bushes of a trailer park–just like in the movies). Now I believe The Gift of Fear by Gavin DeBecker should be required reading for every man and woman. And I cringe whenever I see another hipster without a helmet.

5. I once saved my man-friend’s life.

6. He once saved my dog’s life.

I think they bonded over that.

7. I am secretly grateful when the people who think they’re supposed to remember my birthday forget it.

It makes me feel less guilty for forgetting theirs. I’m terrible at remembering birthdays.

8. Snow-skiing in Alta, Utah.

If I ever have a business retreat of my own, this is where it will be.

9. I once sold window coverings door to door in Orange County—just after returning from the Peace Corps.

I was actually pretty good at it, thanks to my obsession at the time with Zig Ziglar. Someone told my boss I was good at selling without appearing to be selling—he said I didn’t seem like a salesperson, but as a salesperson himself, he could feel my subtle tactics working on him. Selling door to door was easy after the Peace Corps. Copywriting was easy after selling door to door.

10. My brain overwrote Spanish with French. Sorry, Ms. Shew.

I studied Spanish in high school, and had to learn French living in Guinea as a Peace Corps volunteer. The French won out over the Spanish. I am barely conversational in Soussou. There are many sad stories related to my time in the Peace Corps. They’re too irredeemably sad to tell. You know how some stories give you this great feeling of warmth at the end because you can see the humanity and the sad, sad beauty of it all? These don’t have that quality. They’re just sad.

11. I have never broken a bone, gotten a cavity, or needed glasses.

I have, however, chipped my front tooth by throwing a large rock high up into the air and attempting to catch it.
It was supposed to be a friendship rock for the friendship altar at summer camp.

12. I am an only child.

A left-handed, introverted only child who is only comfortable speaking in public if one hand is attached to a puppet and costumes are involved. All of this means I am a blast at parties for 90 minutes. Then I am suddenly done and need to go home immediately.

13. I once lived out of my car and only ate baked potato, which I heated with the microwave on campus at the local community college.

This is how I know it’s possible to live on $10 a week. It’s also the reason I rarely eat baked potatoes.

14. I, too, used to be obsessed with origami.

My parents got a phone call after my desk was revealed to contain dozens of tiny swans in various forms, all constructed from old homework. I got into a lot of trouble as a child for doing what don’t sound like such bad things now. I used to draw skulls and crossbones on all my homework like a pirate signature; I drew a bikini on my Thanksgiving turkey handout in 3rd grade; I corrected my teacher for mis-pronouncing a word; and one time I forgot to ask if I could get up before sharpening my pencil. My level of rebel was ‘Anne-of-Green-Gables.’

15. I have written an unpublished, unedited novel about The Real Santa Claus.

That’s all anyone ever needs to know.

16. I used to be a cat person, but switched to dogs after college.

It’s really about the individual cat and the individual dog.

17. My favorite novels are Middlemarch and The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

18. My first business was a two-day mistletoe stand in front of Stater Brothers when I was 18 years old.

This is only my second business. But here are the abandoned back-up business ideas I had planned if Copylicious didn’t work out:

• A food cart in The Mission
• A home puppetry theatre & dining experience

• Slobbercise, a one-on-one, dog-running service. The key business-building strategy was to be a viral marketing campaign featuring my Great Dane mix, Harley, wearing an Olivia Newton John-inspired aerobics ensemble.

19. I have hiked to the top of Yosemite’s Halfdome approximately 12 times–once by myself.

20. I spent a summer pumping gas and washing windshields at a gas station.

There is a proper technique and an improper technique to wash a windshield. I don’t like having people volunteer to wash my windshield when I’m pumping gas because they never use the proper technique.

21. My favorite theme park (yes, I have one) is Dollywood in Tennessee.

It’s just as graaaaand as it sounds. Everyone should go at least once.

22. I’m a highly-sensitive person who is inexplicably drawn to adventure.

That can’t be good for me.

So now you know.

I’m just sorry you didn’t learn all this sooner. Sarah Lacy, I salute you and extend my gratitude for inspiring this post. To continue in Sarah’s grand tradition, I’d like to open up the comments for interesting, fun facts about the readers of this blog. I assume if there’s something most people don’t know about you, there’s a good reason for that. So feel free to indulge anyway—we’ll chalk it up to egg nog later.