Today we remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in service and defense of their nation.
May we work toward the day when such sacrifice is unnecessary.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Friday 55-Bird on a Wire
*image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/shannonspage/4027447640/
"Chick! Chick! Chick-a-dee!"
Cried the little prophet clad in feathers.
He looked down on the cars
wedged together in the highway crawl.
He screamed at so much metal, glass, and concrete.
For lack of AC my window was down.
I heard the handful of a creature
call in wild fury,
"Look! Look! Look at me!"
Cried the little prophet clad in feathers.
He looked down on the cars
wedged together in the highway crawl.
He screamed at so much metal, glass, and concrete.
For lack of AC my window was down.
I heard the handful of a creature
call in wild fury,
"Look! Look! Look at me!"
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Today's Forecast
Temperature: 84F
Humidity: 50%
Relative Crankiness: Rising, with scattered outbursts expected throughout the day.
And now for a brief venting from your mother...
To Isaac: I don't care if you don't want to go to the doctor and then to physical therapy. Truthfully, I'd rather not be sitting in the bumper to bumper traffic in this weather in a car with no AC to get you to your appointments but this is what has to happen so shut up.
To Calypso: I am sorry you are not feeling well and had to come home from school. It does not give you permission to scream at people so shut up.
To Diana: Don't even open your mouth unless it is to thank your father, your grandmother, and me profusely for the extended generosity and hard work to get you to college and keep you there. Your recent performance and decisions do not leave room for even the slightest hint of entitled behavior so shut up.
Times like these make me remember my grandfather's stern warning to me when I misbehaved as a kid.
Girl, you'd better straighten up or I'm gonna cloud up and rain all over you!
Humidity: 50%
Relative Crankiness: Rising, with scattered outbursts expected throughout the day.
And now for a brief venting from your mother...
To Isaac: I don't care if you don't want to go to the doctor and then to physical therapy. Truthfully, I'd rather not be sitting in the bumper to bumper traffic in this weather in a car with no AC to get you to your appointments but this is what has to happen so shut up.
To Calypso: I am sorry you are not feeling well and had to come home from school. It does not give you permission to scream at people so shut up.
To Diana: Don't even open your mouth unless it is to thank your father, your grandmother, and me profusely for the extended generosity and hard work to get you to college and keep you there. Your recent performance and decisions do not leave room for even the slightest hint of entitled behavior so shut up.
Times like these make me remember my grandfather's stern warning to me when I misbehaved as a kid.
Girl, you'd better straighten up or I'm gonna cloud up and rain all over you!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Those Minnesota Girls Are a Special Kind of Tough
Perhaps you recall this post from last year when I recounted the story of Calypso's birth. If not, to recap...
She was born by c-section...
with an epidural that didn't work...
and I refused to be knocked out...
so I felt everything from the first incision to the last suture...
and the power went out in the middle of it all.
There are those who think that makes me kinda tough but I don't think I can hold a candle to gal who...
Delivers her own child...
in the car on the way to the hospital...
while she is the one DRIVING the flippin' car...
as it's set on cruise control at 70 mph!!!
Don't take my word for it. Here's the news report.
Oofdah!
She was born by c-section...
with an epidural that didn't work...
and I refused to be knocked out...
so I felt everything from the first incision to the last suture...
and the power went out in the middle of it all.
There are those who think that makes me kinda tough but I don't think I can hold a candle to gal who...
Delivers her own child...
in the car on the way to the hospital...
while she is the one DRIVING the flippin' car...
as it's set on cruise control at 70 mph!!!
Don't take my word for it. Here's the news report.
Oofdah!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
As Overheard in the Office
We have this daily affirmation we try to do in the office. Part of it states, " I am a new patient magnet." We have a goal of 7 new patients per week, which is fairly reasonable. Yesterday morning in about a span of one hour I took calls for 6 people who wanted to schedule appointments as a new patient this week. The insurance girl put up a sticky note on my computer declaring that I was indeed THE new patient magnet of the day. Later in the day a current patient saw the sign and asked what it meant so I explained. His response cracked me up.
With a deranged glint in his eye and a maniacal grin like Jack Nicholson's in The Shining he announced, "If you are a magnet for new patients, I am flypaper for freaks!"
With a deranged glint in his eye and a maniacal grin like Jack Nicholson's in The Shining he announced, "If you are a magnet for new patients, I am flypaper for freaks!"
Monday, May 24, 2010
Goodnight, Meme
Isaac is doing well enough that he is attempting a return to school today. I figured when I had to chase him out the front door to retrieve a baseball bat from his hand (because he actually thought he could do some batting....uh, lemme think about that for a nanosecond.NO!!!!!) he was well enough to hobble around school on his crutches. Thanks to all for the prayers and well wishes.
Since he's doing well and Mr. Lime has foot surgery on Friday I'd love to take the chance to rest up this week but that's unlikely. Instead, I bring you a bedtime meme.
1. Name 2 things you have done under the covers in the last week.
I can name 2 people I'd like to have done under the covers.
2. Do you know what a woobie is? Do you have a special one?
He's off flying the Millennium Falcon with Han Solo.
3. What prompts you to pull the covers over your head and hide from the world?
I need an excuse?
4. Firm or soft?
Are we talking mattresses or parts of anatomy here?
5. Silk or flannel?
Leather or lace?
6. Lights on or off?
What is being lit?
7. Fan or no air?
I am a fan of unimpeded air flow since oxygen is a necessity of life.
8. Completely dark or nite light?
Strobes and a disco ball.
9. Windows open or shut
Stealing Coopernicus' answer because it's brilliant...Windows until it crashes then Apples OS.
10. Sweet dreams or nightmares?
Deep and dreamless sleep.
11. PJ’s or……
Skin, baby, all skin.
12. Set bedtime?
Set it where? On the nightstand? At the foot of the bed?
13. What do sheep count when they can’t sleep?
They just try counting and get frustrated since they don't have fingers and toes.
14. What does your alarm clock sound like?
It makes a crashing noise when I throw it against the wall.
15. White noise or music
The music of a sated partner sighing blissfully.
16. TV or IPod?
Spring peepers and crickets.
17. Can you recall a pleasant dream you’d like to share?
Mmmm, yes....sigh...oh, excuse me, I drifted off there for a moment
18. Under the covers or outside the covers
Levitating over the bed.
19. Insomniac or sleep angel?
Sleep demon
20. What is your favorite sleep aid for those tossin’ and turnin’ nights?
Multiple orgasms
21. Morning person or night person
Mourning a knight.
22. Bedtime snack?
Giving or receiving or both?
23. Hot or cold room
Sultry
24. Bedtime ritual?
Walking backwards around the bed 7 times then chanting the Mongolian alphabet before sacrificing a chihuahua.
25. Twin, Queen, King, Bunk or Futon
Gees, the futon is getting crowded with all the royalty and multiples and purveyors of less than factual information.
26. Socks or naked feet
Naked everything
27. Bedroom door locked or unlocked?
Can a bead curtain be locked?
28. Tent or hotel room
Yurt (this one is for Susie)
29. If you could be bored to sleep, what would bore you?
I would have used the drill bit answer if Coopernicus hadn't beaten me to it.
30. Prayers or mantra?
Praying mantis
31. What was the worst nightmare you ever had?
A worldwide chocolate shortage
32. Please share any ideas on how to stop a person from snoring.
I’m all ears.
If you're all ears how do you have the parts required to make a snoring sound?
33. If one purely pleasant thought could ensure fast and sound deep sleep for you every night, what would your one thought be?
The thoughts that float through my mind in the afterglow.
34. How many hours do you normally sleep?
Not nearly enough.
35. Thunderstorms or quiet starry night?
Do you really need to ask?
36. Warm bath or hot shower?
How big are the facilities and may I have company?
37. What is the craziest thing that ever happened in your bed?
Probably the ritual mentioned in #24.
38. Name a song you could fall asleep to.
The 1812 Overture cannon solo.
Sadly, it was not Hugh Jackman.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The Kid
We got the pain under control and he did manage to sleep last night. What a magic moment when the poor kid finally got to sleep. PT starts later today.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Big Ouch
We are home. The surgeon said things went smoothly. The post surgical pain is not yet under control and that's not too nice for a mom to watch. Certainly it's far less nice for him to be enduring. Thanks to all for prayers and good thoughts. I'd be happy for them to continue.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
My Journey with Baseball
If you read this title and expected some sort of incisive commentary on the game or my abiding love of the sport I'm going to tell you right up front you're not going to get that. what you are going to get is a history of my relationship to America's pastime.
Once upon a time I was a wee lime growing up in a baseball saturated small town. My hometown, small as it was, had leagues out the ears for wee tots on up to adults. Yeah, I know so does your town. What my town also had was a consistently winning VFW league. When I say winning I don't mean merely in local contests, I mean in the VFW World Series. If we didn't win we at least made it to the series for many years running, but we frequently won. A bad year meant we didn't get to the series.
As my father describes me I am extremely athletically declined. In elementary school I was the kid left standing next to the kid from the "special class" when teams were chosen up. It was a pretty even likelihood that I'd be the last one standing there and reluctantly accepted onto the team unfortunate enough to have to abide my utter lack of ability in any kind of team sport. By junior high I at least had a few friends who I could count on during gym class to pick me for a team out of mercy for me so I was spared that humiliation. I still hated that my grade for the class figured into whether or not I made honor roll when I could shine academically.
By high school I noticed how the athletic programs in school got all sorts of funding but the arts got comparatively little. The truly infuriating example of the skewed priorities in my mind was attending class in a building which was in a sorry state of disrepair while a $1 million baseball stadium followed by a $3million football stadium were built on school grounds to accommodate our hometown VFW baseball team when it hosted the world series and our football team which had a record so bad a petition requesting the girls' field hockey team be allowed to play the homecoming game was sent around. So whether you were an athletic powerhouse like the baseball players or a set of hopeless losers like our football team was you were going to be funded at the cost of everyone else.
Once I got to college, I heard the star pitcher of the baseball team (our neighbor) had gotten a girl pregnant. He informed the coaches of his decision to do the responsible thing by quitting the team to get a job and pay child support. Kudos to him for manning up. However, the team couldn't do without its star pitcher so the coaches decided to pool together to pay support to the mother. America's pastime indeed. It all sickened me. I wanted nothing to do with any of it.
Then in 1986 I met Mr. Lime, who is a lifelong Mets fan. If you know anything about baseball you know 1986 is the second time the Mets won the World Series. I watched the series with Mr. Lime and the mutual pal who introduced us and who happens to be a lifelong Boston Red Sox fan. It was at this time I learned about the Curse of the Bambino, which was said to account for the Sox not having won a Series since, I dunno...the late Mezosoic Era. Ok, let's qualify this all. initially I didn't attend the game watching for the sake of watching the game. I went because I thought it would be hilarious to watch these two friends of mine get insane over their 2 consistently horrid teams duking it out in the World Series while I happily puttered in the kitchen of Mr. Lime's apartment. To further qualify, I lived in the dorms and really missed being able to make the food I enjoyed and being subjected to cafeteria food. Mr. Lime hated cooking and was all too happy to offer his kitchen for my use because it meant he got more than Cap'n Crunch and a microwaved spud for dinner. So I thought it would be a stitch during breaks in my cooking to laugh at these two baseball maniacs during the World Series. Then the games actually got kind of interesting, what with billy Buckner letting balls roll between his legs at crucial moments and all. (Suldog, forgive me for bringing it up but it was damned funny to see.)
Skipping ahead a bit, Mr. Lime and I eventually married. Mr. Lime is the youngest of 3 very athletic brothers. I was now expected to muster some actual interest in baseball. The summer I was pregnant with Diana when we went to visit our friend the BoSox fan. We went to Fenway park where I wedged my widening self into the wooden slatted seats along the third base line. I became nauseous from the smell of beer. Later that summer we went to visit my mother-in-law in Florida where we went to watch the Mets minor league team....Oh be still my heart. If Fenway during pregnancy was not really my favorite activity, being pregnant and held captive in the blazing Florida sun to endure another game was even less fun. When the game was tied up at the top of the 9th I groaned at the thought of extra innings. I rooted for the other team to win just so we could get the hell out of the stadium. One could justifiably accuse me of not having a good attitude.
Later we moved to Trinidad, where there was no baseball. There was something worse, cricket. Full length cricket matches can go on for 5 days. Test matches can last 3 days. Trinidadians are even more crazed for cricket than Americans are for baseball. It made baseball seem fairly benign. When by some strange alignment of signals a station on the island broadcast a baseball game, Mr. Lime and one of our dearest friends there watched the game together. Mr. Lime was somehow absent when a grand slam occurred. Our friend had a question about how that would be rendered statistically for the batter. I was shocked to hear myself define the term "run batted in" and let my friend know the batter would be credited with 4 RBIs. Apparently osmosis had kicked in at some point during my marriage.
Upon our return to the US I tolerated baseball games on t.v. Then we had a son...and I began to worry he may want to play sports some day. I wasn't worried about injury so much as the possibility I may be required to attend games and get excited about them. How was I going to manage to get excited about and activity that I found about as enjoyable as most people find teeth cleanings but far less useful? I could watch father and son play catch in the yard and well up with all sorts of familial happiness at the idyllic scene. I could smile as the boy watched Mets games with his dad and while I puttered at a preferable activity. But the day was coming when I'd be forced to personally attend another game. Ugh.
When it arrived I found it wasn't quite as bad as I thought. It was kind of cute as the kids bumbled around on the field. My son's early teams were all of the Charlie Brown type so there was little expectation or pressure. Mr. Lime coached the early teams and even sponsored one of them along with a friend. They gave the team a seemingly innocent name which was an inside joke. It would have brought down the wrath of a dozen sets of parents had they any inkling of the meaning. You all know me well enough to know how I could enjoy that.
Time passed and I began to actually care about the game and ask questions about the rules so I could understand what my son was doing. We took the kids to local minor league games and I asked more questions and saw the absolute rapture on my son's face to have his first chance to see professionals play. Around the age of 8 he began spouting statistics and I was astonished at his knowledge. He continued to develop as a player and eventually settled into his favorite position after alternating between pitcher, catcher, and first base. The boy just LOVES to catch and I am told he is a really good defensive catcher. I learned I love watching him catch. I learned more about the game itself because I wanted to understand this thing that fascinates my son. I learned baseball, when played for love of the game, can be a lot of fun.
Now the boy is missing his favorite season of the year because of a knee injury and tomorrow morning he will be having surgery for a torn meniscus in his left knee. He's rightly disappointed by a lost season and I am disappointed with him but we hope for a lot of great seasons to come once his knee is all healed up. If you have been kind enough to stick with me through this post I'd ask for one more kindness in saying a prayer or sending good thoughts to Isaac as he recovers. I don't know if I'll being doing any significant posting the rest of this week (though I have a meme in my hip pocket I may autopost) but I will update you once we are home and he's happily dozing in out out of a painkiller haze.
Once upon a time I was a wee lime growing up in a baseball saturated small town. My hometown, small as it was, had leagues out the ears for wee tots on up to adults. Yeah, I know so does your town. What my town also had was a consistently winning VFW league. When I say winning I don't mean merely in local contests, I mean in the VFW World Series. If we didn't win we at least made it to the series for many years running, but we frequently won. A bad year meant we didn't get to the series.
As my father describes me I am extremely athletically declined. In elementary school I was the kid left standing next to the kid from the "special class" when teams were chosen up. It was a pretty even likelihood that I'd be the last one standing there and reluctantly accepted onto the team unfortunate enough to have to abide my utter lack of ability in any kind of team sport. By junior high I at least had a few friends who I could count on during gym class to pick me for a team out of mercy for me so I was spared that humiliation. I still hated that my grade for the class figured into whether or not I made honor roll when I could shine academically.
By high school I noticed how the athletic programs in school got all sorts of funding but the arts got comparatively little. The truly infuriating example of the skewed priorities in my mind was attending class in a building which was in a sorry state of disrepair while a $1 million baseball stadium followed by a $3million football stadium were built on school grounds to accommodate our hometown VFW baseball team when it hosted the world series and our football team which had a record so bad a petition requesting the girls' field hockey team be allowed to play the homecoming game was sent around. So whether you were an athletic powerhouse like the baseball players or a set of hopeless losers like our football team was you were going to be funded at the cost of everyone else.
Once I got to college, I heard the star pitcher of the baseball team (our neighbor) had gotten a girl pregnant. He informed the coaches of his decision to do the responsible thing by quitting the team to get a job and pay child support. Kudos to him for manning up. However, the team couldn't do without its star pitcher so the coaches decided to pool together to pay support to the mother. America's pastime indeed. It all sickened me. I wanted nothing to do with any of it.
Then in 1986 I met Mr. Lime, who is a lifelong Mets fan. If you know anything about baseball you know 1986 is the second time the Mets won the World Series. I watched the series with Mr. Lime and the mutual pal who introduced us and who happens to be a lifelong Boston Red Sox fan. It was at this time I learned about the Curse of the Bambino, which was said to account for the Sox not having won a Series since, I dunno...the late Mezosoic Era. Ok, let's qualify this all. initially I didn't attend the game watching for the sake of watching the game. I went because I thought it would be hilarious to watch these two friends of mine get insane over their 2 consistently horrid teams duking it out in the World Series while I happily puttered in the kitchen of Mr. Lime's apartment. To further qualify, I lived in the dorms and really missed being able to make the food I enjoyed and being subjected to cafeteria food. Mr. Lime hated cooking and was all too happy to offer his kitchen for my use because it meant he got more than Cap'n Crunch and a microwaved spud for dinner. So I thought it would be a stitch during breaks in my cooking to laugh at these two baseball maniacs during the World Series. Then the games actually got kind of interesting, what with billy Buckner letting balls roll between his legs at crucial moments and all. (Suldog, forgive me for bringing it up but it was damned funny to see.)
Skipping ahead a bit, Mr. Lime and I eventually married. Mr. Lime is the youngest of 3 very athletic brothers. I was now expected to muster some actual interest in baseball. The summer I was pregnant with Diana when we went to visit our friend the BoSox fan. We went to Fenway park where I wedged my widening self into the wooden slatted seats along the third base line. I became nauseous from the smell of beer. Later that summer we went to visit my mother-in-law in Florida where we went to watch the Mets minor league team....Oh be still my heart. If Fenway during pregnancy was not really my favorite activity, being pregnant and held captive in the blazing Florida sun to endure another game was even less fun. When the game was tied up at the top of the 9th I groaned at the thought of extra innings. I rooted for the other team to win just so we could get the hell out of the stadium. One could justifiably accuse me of not having a good attitude.
Later we moved to Trinidad, where there was no baseball. There was something worse, cricket. Full length cricket matches can go on for 5 days. Test matches can last 3 days. Trinidadians are even more crazed for cricket than Americans are for baseball. It made baseball seem fairly benign. When by some strange alignment of signals a station on the island broadcast a baseball game, Mr. Lime and one of our dearest friends there watched the game together. Mr. Lime was somehow absent when a grand slam occurred. Our friend had a question about how that would be rendered statistically for the batter. I was shocked to hear myself define the term "run batted in" and let my friend know the batter would be credited with 4 RBIs. Apparently osmosis had kicked in at some point during my marriage.
Upon our return to the US I tolerated baseball games on t.v. Then we had a son...and I began to worry he may want to play sports some day. I wasn't worried about injury so much as the possibility I may be required to attend games and get excited about them. How was I going to manage to get excited about and activity that I found about as enjoyable as most people find teeth cleanings but far less useful? I could watch father and son play catch in the yard and well up with all sorts of familial happiness at the idyllic scene. I could smile as the boy watched Mets games with his dad and while I puttered at a preferable activity. But the day was coming when I'd be forced to personally attend another game. Ugh.
When it arrived I found it wasn't quite as bad as I thought. It was kind of cute as the kids bumbled around on the field. My son's early teams were all of the Charlie Brown type so there was little expectation or pressure. Mr. Lime coached the early teams and even sponsored one of them along with a friend. They gave the team a seemingly innocent name which was an inside joke. It would have brought down the wrath of a dozen sets of parents had they any inkling of the meaning. You all know me well enough to know how I could enjoy that.
Time passed and I began to actually care about the game and ask questions about the rules so I could understand what my son was doing. We took the kids to local minor league games and I asked more questions and saw the absolute rapture on my son's face to have his first chance to see professionals play. Around the age of 8 he began spouting statistics and I was astonished at his knowledge. He continued to develop as a player and eventually settled into his favorite position after alternating between pitcher, catcher, and first base. The boy just LOVES to catch and I am told he is a really good defensive catcher. I learned I love watching him catch. I learned more about the game itself because I wanted to understand this thing that fascinates my son. I learned baseball, when played for love of the game, can be a lot of fun.
Now the boy is missing his favorite season of the year because of a knee injury and tomorrow morning he will be having surgery for a torn meniscus in his left knee. He's rightly disappointed by a lost season and I am disappointed with him but we hope for a lot of great seasons to come once his knee is all healed up. If you have been kind enough to stick with me through this post I'd ask for one more kindness in saying a prayer or sending good thoughts to Isaac as he recovers. I don't know if I'll being doing any significant posting the rest of this week (though I have a meme in my hip pocket I may autopost) but I will update you once we are home and he's happily dozing in out out of a painkiller haze.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Incongruous
Incongruous: (adj.) watching Rambo on a pink and purple Disney princess television located in a shed referred to as "Manland."I think I know why I am seldom granted entry to Manland. I find such blogworthy silliness there I cannot resist posting it...but this will be our little secret, right?
And just to be fair and point the incongruity finger back at myself, while he my watch Rambo on a pink Disney princess t.v. I like to spend my Saturday mornings listening to Car Talk while giving myself a pedicure or facial.
So tell me about your incongruities.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Friday 55-Sisyphus' Dilemma
What would Sisyphus do
if he finally pushed that boulder to the top
and it rolled down the other side
rather than back on him?
Would he wipe the sweat from his brow,
sit to rest, and enjoy the view?
Would he victoriously spit
down upon the rock?
Or would he crave the familiar futility?
if he finally pushed that boulder to the top
and it rolled down the other side
rather than back on him?
Would he wipe the sweat from his brow,
sit to rest, and enjoy the view?
Would he victoriously spit
down upon the rock?
Or would he crave the familiar futility?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Slice of Lime-Panic
This is the look of a woman who just handed her car keys to her newly licensed driver...
on a dark night...
when it's raining...
and said driver is taking her two siblings out for fast food.
This is the look that occurs as I hear the garage door open...
and the van back down the driveway...
after I've delivered the "All passengers will be silent and keep their extremities to themselves and the radio will be off because a call informing me of 3 dead children will make me a dead mom" speech.
Yeah, this is one of those changes I am REALLY not happy about. However, like Suldog, I am pretty adaptable even in the face of unwelcome change. May I say, I'm looking forward to the change where I am confident about this whole thing and not beset by panic when my kids go out for a snack.
Breathing deeply and being zen like Logo....I am the pothole the van swerves around...
AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! It's not working!
(Ok, phew...they are back safely.)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose
I believe I may have mentioned my enjoyment of The Writer's Almanac and the daily poem I get in my email. Sometimes I'm less than impressed with the selection. Sometimes it sings to me. Today's gem rang so true I had to share.
Then I am faced with the mirror in the bathroom, or the look in my children's eyes, or the thoughtful insight of a true friend and I recognize that even the glaciers march forward and recede with time and leave unmistakable marks on the landscape.
So tell me, what marks change in you and your life? How do you react to change?
Change
All those things that have gone from your life,
moon boots, TV trays and the Soviet Union, that
seem to have vanished, are really only changed.
Dinosaurs did not disappear from the earth but
evolved into birds and crock pots became bread
makers and then the bread makers all went to
rummage sales along with the exercise bikes.
Everything changes. It seems at times (only for
a moment) that your wife, the woman you love,
might actually be your first wife in another form.
It's a thought not to be pursued….Nothing is the
same as it used to be. Except you, of course,
you haven't changed…well, slowed down a bit,
perhaps. It's more difficult nowadays to deal with
the speed of change, disturbing to suddenly find
yourself brushing your teeth with what appears
to be a flashlight. But essentially you are the
same as ever, constant in your instability.
Then I am faced with the mirror in the bathroom, or the look in my children's eyes, or the thoughtful insight of a true friend and I recognize that even the glaciers march forward and recede with time and leave unmistakable marks on the landscape.
So tell me, what marks change in you and your life? How do you react to change?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Outrageous!
*image from http://www.mymcmastermind.com/
Today is the birthday of famous Spanish surrealist Salvador Dali. Aside from painting bizarre scene he cultivated eccentricity in his own life and was quoted as saying, "The one thing the world will never have enough of is the outrageous." Here at House of Lime we are all about culture, refinement, intellectual stimulation, and maintaining decorum. BWHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Ok, excuse me for a moment while I try to catch my breath from laughing after typing that. Please pick yourselves up off the floor after reading such a blatant misrepresentation of this silly little blog. Straighten your clothes a bit and let's get on with the post, shall we?
Today, in honor of Senor Dali, we shall be observing the outrageous and adding a bit of it to our world. You may choose to don a Dali moustache for the day. If you are a gentleman with a fine moustache already you may opt to wax it into crazy shapes like the beard and moustache champs. If you are a lady with a moustache thick enough to shape artistically you already qualify as somewhat outrageous without ever getting creative. I regret having waxed mine as a method of moustache removal, not sculpting, this past weekend. If only I had known...Alas, I shall have to find another way to express the outrageous.
Perhaps, the other ladies of the reading audience and I should don some outrageous fashions. Though I must say if I ate the chocolate dress or the cream puff dress it's fair to say i'd never fit into the slinky cheeseburger dress and would soon require the camo tent dress to hide what would surely be my rather outrageously sized derriere.
Outrageous hairdos are an option for both men and women. You could always stick your finger in a socket and go for the simple Phil Spector look. Or you could get really fancy and go for this look. I can't even describe it, words fail me.
If you don't want to go around looking so outrageous you could share a few more outrageous facts like the ones I explained yesterday. Enjoy some outrageous poetry by Dorothy Parker, Ogden Nash or Shel Silverstein. Heck, even John Donne wrote an outrageous piece suggesting that a flea which bit a man and a woman comingled their blood so having sex after that would be the next logical step.
Still too heady? Then just go about as a minister of silly walks.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Oodles of Meme and Doing Some 'Splainin'
It's been a while since I was tagged but Ananda Girl got me this time.
A. Three names I go by:
1. Yes, dear
2. Michella the Hun
3. An unpronounceable symbol
B. Three places I've lived:
1. In a fantasy world
2. Between my ears
3. Earth
C. Three places I've worked:
1. Inside the home
2. Outside the home
3. In an old folks' home
D. Three things I love to watch:
1. This
2. That
3. The other thing
E. Three places I have been:
1. In love
2. In agony
3. In limbo
F. Three people who email me regularly:
1. A prince of Nigeria
2. Sexxygrl19
3. Someone wanting to enhance my manhood
G. Three things I love to eat: (Why, oh why do you people give me ammunition like this and then expect me to behave???)
1. Brussels sprouts popsicles
2. Sauerkraut pudding
3. Liver cake with canned pea icing
H. Three people I think will respond:
To what??? My engraved invitation to the dramatic re-enactment of my high school's national chess tournament win? The political rally for the new party I am forming (the platform hinges on the eradication of scrapple and government subsidized massage therapy for everyone)? Or the flash mob plans for clothing the Statue of Liberty in tie dye?
I. Things I am looking forward to:
1. Sharing ice cream and cake with Hugh Jackman on our birthday
2. Sitting in a jacuzzi full of hot fudge
3. Never having another migraine
I'm also quite late on providing some explanations for a few factoids provided by Mimi last week so I shall tack this on as well because I can't resist anything weird unusual or amusing.
The Weird, Unusual and Amusing Meme
The following statements are true. Your job is to explain why you think they are true. Just offer up your usual amusing quips! I'm betting we'll have some hysterical responses. Remember that somewhere somebody in the world needs to know these things and your tax dollars probably paid for the research that went into proving them true.
1. More people are killed by donkeys annually than are killed in plane crashes.
This is due to the stringent requirements for obtaining a pilot's license where as any old dumbass is allowed to "pilot" a jackass, which may well be smarter than the dumbass. Donkeys don't have a high tolerance for dumbasses.
2. Donald Duck comics were banned in Finland because he doesn't wear pants.
It's because the Finns are a benevolent people and they don't want Donald to freeze to the ice if he squats.
3. If you keep a Goldfish in the dark room, it will eventually turn white.
This is because goldfish are naturally afraid of the dark and things that go bump in it. They turn white from sheer terror.
4. The shortest war in history was between Zanzibar and England in 1896. Zanzibar surrendered after 38 minutes. Why were they fighting in the first place?
There was a shortage of Zs at that time. The Brits objected to the Zanzibarbarian's seeming greed for Zs and excessive usage of the letter. They fought valiantly for just over a half hour before the Brits overwhelmed them and demanded they mind their Ps and Qs. The Zanzibarbarians were banished to the archipelago in the Indian Ocean where they are given a small yearly allotment of Post Alphabits Cereal to meet their lexical cravings.
5. Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
We are simply more frequently astonished at the stupidity in the world.
6. The ant always falls over on its right side when intoxicated.
I'm pretty sure it was just the researchers who were tipsy when they came up with this. I'm betting the all just happened to be laying on their right sides when they passed out.
7. An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
Just another one of God's jokes in creation. See also, the platypus.
8. In England, the Speaker of The House is not allowed to speak.
Brits have a greater sense of irony in politics..or else ironically, they have a greater political sense.
9. By raising your legs slowly and lying on your back, you cannot sink into quicksand.
However, you can get into all sorts of hot water if you engage in that position with certain members of the opposite sex.
10. On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents daily.
Hospital nurseries are run by intoxicated ants or drunken researchers or both.
11. Where's #11??? There was no #11 in this list!
It's a conspiracy.
12. The electric chair was invented by a dentist.
We already know dentists can be sadists so why is this a surprise?
A. Three names I go by:
1. Yes, dear
2. Michella the Hun
3. An unpronounceable symbol
B. Three places I've lived:
1. In a fantasy world
2. Between my ears
3. Earth
C. Three places I've worked:
1. Inside the home
2. Outside the home
3. In an old folks' home
D. Three things I love to watch:
1. This
2. That
3. The other thing
E. Three places I have been:
1. In love
2. In agony
3. In limbo
F. Three people who email me regularly:
1. A prince of Nigeria
2. Sexxygrl19
3. Someone wanting to enhance my manhood
G. Three things I love to eat: (Why, oh why do you people give me ammunition like this and then expect me to behave???)
1. Brussels sprouts popsicles
2. Sauerkraut pudding
3. Liver cake with canned pea icing
H. Three people I think will respond:
To what??? My engraved invitation to the dramatic re-enactment of my high school's national chess tournament win? The political rally for the new party I am forming (the platform hinges on the eradication of scrapple and government subsidized massage therapy for everyone)? Or the flash mob plans for clothing the Statue of Liberty in tie dye?
I. Things I am looking forward to:
1. Sharing ice cream and cake with Hugh Jackman on our birthday
2. Sitting in a jacuzzi full of hot fudge
3. Never having another migraine
I'm also quite late on providing some explanations for a few factoids provided by Mimi last week so I shall tack this on as well because I can't resist anything weird unusual or amusing.
The Weird, Unusual and Amusing Meme
The following statements are true. Your job is to explain why you think they are true. Just offer up your usual amusing quips! I'm betting we'll have some hysterical responses. Remember that somewhere somebody in the world needs to know these things and your tax dollars probably paid for the research that went into proving them true.
1. More people are killed by donkeys annually than are killed in plane crashes.
This is due to the stringent requirements for obtaining a pilot's license where as any old dumbass is allowed to "pilot" a jackass, which may well be smarter than the dumbass. Donkeys don't have a high tolerance for dumbasses.
2. Donald Duck comics were banned in Finland because he doesn't wear pants.
It's because the Finns are a benevolent people and they don't want Donald to freeze to the ice if he squats.
3. If you keep a Goldfish in the dark room, it will eventually turn white.
This is because goldfish are naturally afraid of the dark and things that go bump in it. They turn white from sheer terror.
4. The shortest war in history was between Zanzibar and England in 1896. Zanzibar surrendered after 38 minutes. Why were they fighting in the first place?
There was a shortage of Zs at that time. The Brits objected to the Zanzibarbarian's seeming greed for Zs and excessive usage of the letter. They fought valiantly for just over a half hour before the Brits overwhelmed them and demanded they mind their Ps and Qs. The Zanzibarbarians were banished to the archipelago in the Indian Ocean where they are given a small yearly allotment of Post Alphabits Cereal to meet their lexical cravings.
5. Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
We are simply more frequently astonished at the stupidity in the world.
6. The ant always falls over on its right side when intoxicated.
I'm pretty sure it was just the researchers who were tipsy when they came up with this. I'm betting the all just happened to be laying on their right sides when they passed out.
7. An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
Just another one of God's jokes in creation. See also, the platypus.
8. In England, the Speaker of The House is not allowed to speak.
Brits have a greater sense of irony in politics..or else ironically, they have a greater political sense.
9. By raising your legs slowly and lying on your back, you cannot sink into quicksand.
However, you can get into all sorts of hot water if you engage in that position with certain members of the opposite sex.
10. On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents daily.
Hospital nurseries are run by intoxicated ants or drunken researchers or both.
11. Where's #11??? There was no #11 in this list!
It's a conspiracy.
12. The electric chair was invented by a dentist.
We already know dentists can be sadists so why is this a surprise?
Saturday, May 08, 2010
A Poem for Mothers
I am large in my skin
I make no apology
This belly grew a baby
Why should it be flat?
It curves with the memory of the womb.
These breasts fed a baby
Why should they be pert?
They swell with the memory of milk.
These hips carried a child
Why should they be slim?
They are full with the memory of life.
My bones are secret under flesh
My skin plump and white and fine
Mine is the face of Botticelli
Mine is the water of the Nile
Mine is the shape of things forbidden
Daughter of Gaia, grown beautiful and wild.
~ Lorri Barrier
I make no apology
This belly grew a baby
Why should it be flat?
It curves with the memory of the womb.
These breasts fed a baby
Why should they be pert?
They swell with the memory of milk.
These hips carried a child
Why should they be slim?
They are full with the memory of life.
My bones are secret under flesh
My skin plump and white and fine
Mine is the face of Botticelli
Mine is the water of the Nile
Mine is the shape of things forbidden
Daughter of Gaia, grown beautiful and wild.
~ Lorri Barrier
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Slice of Lime-My Snoopy
My brother loved Snoopy the cartoon. For a very brief time our family had an actual dog though. Twiggy was our big, slobbering St. Bernard puppy before my brother was born. I treated her like she was a pony because I can recall many times being told to stop trying to ride on her back. I can also remember feeding her wet leaves from the backyard...until she came inside and puked them all over the kitchen floor. Twiggy had an inclination for running away too and I know many times my dad had to go searching for her. Eventually it was agreed that since Dad's work schedule didn't allow him to be home much to train the dog and since Mom had a 3 year old and a baby and no interest in training a dog, Twiggy would have another home. I was crushed and remember informing the new family they better take good care of MY dog!I think the best memory of Twiggy was sitting on our back porch during thunderstorms. Behind the house was an expanse of farmer's fields. Dad, the dog and I would sit on the porch and watch the lightning dance over the corn and alfalfa. Any other time a storm kicked up I was afraid, but on the porch with Dad and Twiggy I was safe and all was right with the world.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
Mr. Schulz
*image from http://westernreservepublicmedia.org
Over at his place Cricket shares a very cool story of meeting Ron Woods, who put an uppity book store manager in place in defense of simple fan requests. It made me think of a sweet story involving my brother and Charles Schulz.
When my brother was small he LOVED the Peanuts comic strip and especially loved Snoopy. He used to do a dance mimicking Snoopy's when he was overjoyed. He dressed up as Snoopy for Halloween. When he got a little older he used to draw pictures of Snoopy and write Snoopy stories. I don't think he was more than five years old when he and one of his friends decided they wanted to make a bunch of Snoopy drawings for Charles Schulz himself. They worked for weeks on all the drawings and amassed quite a thick pile.
When they decided they had enough to send we managed to track down a mailing address. My brother and his friend worked on a little letter to send along with all the drawings explaining how much they loved Snoopy, that they had drawn these pictures just for Charles Schulz, and that they really hoped he liked them. Mom packed it all up in a great big envelope since some of the drawings were of considerable size not to mention the size of the stack. She took the boys to the post office so they could see that it was all being mailed.
I remember my brother asking at least a couple of times if Charles Schulz would write back. I'm sure mom was kind of vague since she didn't want to promise something she couldn't deliver but she also didn't want to crush the boy's hope either. Since I was a big, sophisticated, older sister of eight and far more experienced in the world and very certain of myself I wasn't at all convinced there would be a return letter. To my shame, I could be very much like Lucy Van Pelt.
Many weeks later though there was a large white envelope with my brother's and his friend's names on it. Inside was a personal letter from Charles Schulz thanking the boys for their drawings, making specific remarks on what he liked about them, and encouraging them to continue drawing. He went on to say how happy it made him to know they enjoyed his comics so much. Finally, he told them he was including some original drawings of Snoopy for each of them since they had been so kind as to share their original drawings with him.
My brother was electrified with joy and encouraged beyond measure. I was in awe and just the teensiest bit envious. I'm pretty sure my mother was heartened by the kindness of such a personal response to her son.
Over the years I've read about Charles Schulz and seen various interviews with him. It all seemed to line up with the gentle esteem he gave two little boys a long time ago in valuing their time and gift enough to personally respond in kind. I don't know if my brother still has the letter and drawings but I do see my brother, who has doggedly pursued his love of writing and has had a few stories published, returning the esteem in his own way to my kids when they sit down to talk of books and writing and to share a bit of their own creativity with him.
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Trini Tuesday-Home of the Steelpan
Since I gave you a brief history on the development of Calypso music a couple of weeks ago, today I will give you an introduction (reworked from posts in the early days of this blog) to the instrument Trinidad gave to the world, the Steel Pan. It is the national instrument of Trinidad and Tobago. It was invented there during the 1930s.
"Liming" was introduced by Brit sailors and raised to an art form by Trinis. Steel pan can be traced to American sailors and again, the Trinis "gone mad wit' it." The US Navy had a base in Trinidad. They left a lot of "materials" behind. Among the castoffs were 55 gallon oil drums. Local authorities had clearly learned nothing from the slave masters of old and had prohibited or heavily regulated animal skin drums and bamboo bands. Local musicians merely transitioned to the ubiquitous oil drums left by the military.
As the instrument gained popularity it had an effect on 1940s Trini culture that was similar to the effect of rock music here in the 1950s and 1960s. It was a somewhat suspect interest of the younger generation. Bands were formed, rivalries sprang up, and some clashes occurred. The instrument gained wider acceptance in the 1950s when a band was sent to the UK to perform for a Commonwealth celebration and was received with enthusiasm. During the 1963 Carnival season the first national Panorama competition between several steel pan orchestras was held. Today, the sound of orchestras rehearsing in open air pan yards and the frenzy of excitement that crescendos with the annual competition is a defining feature of Carnival in Trinidad.
The process of creating a drum is incredibly harsh and yet precisely refined. The tools used are sledgehammers, chisels and blow torches. The bottom is heated and pounded down to stretch deeply then each note is chiseled out and heated and pounded up slightly to hold its specific tone. Stretch the bottom too far and the metal ruptures, not far enough and the notes remain flat. The sides of the drum are cut to varying lengths depending on which range of notes the drum will play. The varying lengths give a rich and layered orchestral sound.
Calypso is the most obvious music to be played by pan orchestras but it is easy to find any other musical style adapted and arranged for pans, whether it is pop, jazz, hymns, or even classical music. A mellow rendition will lull you like a gentle tropical breeze on a sunny beach. If it is interpreted "wit' a jump up beat" and fails to get you on your feet and dancing then the coroner needs to be called.
I've found a groovy little YouTube video that demonstrates how pans are made. They won't let me imbed it here so go watch it and then come back, we'll wait...
Pretty amazing huh? Something the video doesn't tell you, because they show a nice sterile looking factory, is that it is only in recent years that there has been any attempt at standardization.
Previously, each orchestra had its own makers and each maker placed the notes on the pans according to their own arrangement. So, if it was with Desperados that you learned to beat pan and then you left because Winston over dere was givin yuh plenty belly and yuh had yuh fill so yuh goin to Renegades and beatin with all of dey...Well, expect to learn to play all over again because Renegades has a whole different set of pans. Remember I told you about the annual competition during Carnival? Each orchestra has it's own pan makers and musical arrangers and it helps keep the finer nuances of the arrangements within the respective orchestras. Interestingly, many pannists do not read music at all and learn the arrangements entirely by ear. and now for your listening pleasure, several different styles of music interpreted on the pan....
An example of classical music on the steel pan...Trust me, here and give it a listen.
A different sort of classic played on pan...In this one you can see playing the steel pan is as much a dance as anything else.
Amazing Grace
Finally, all yuh get on yuh feet and Dingolay (That's Trini slang for dance with abandon)!
Now, steel pan music may be heard all over the Caribbean and across the world, but make no mistake. It was BORN and BRED in Trinidad!
"Liming" was introduced by Brit sailors and raised to an art form by Trinis. Steel pan can be traced to American sailors and again, the Trinis "gone mad wit' it." The US Navy had a base in Trinidad. They left a lot of "materials" behind. Among the castoffs were 55 gallon oil drums. Local authorities had clearly learned nothing from the slave masters of old and had prohibited or heavily regulated animal skin drums and bamboo bands. Local musicians merely transitioned to the ubiquitous oil drums left by the military.
As the instrument gained popularity it had an effect on 1940s Trini culture that was similar to the effect of rock music here in the 1950s and 1960s. It was a somewhat suspect interest of the younger generation. Bands were formed, rivalries sprang up, and some clashes occurred. The instrument gained wider acceptance in the 1950s when a band was sent to the UK to perform for a Commonwealth celebration and was received with enthusiasm. During the 1963 Carnival season the first national Panorama competition between several steel pan orchestras was held. Today, the sound of orchestras rehearsing in open air pan yards and the frenzy of excitement that crescendos with the annual competition is a defining feature of Carnival in Trinidad.
The process of creating a drum is incredibly harsh and yet precisely refined. The tools used are sledgehammers, chisels and blow torches. The bottom is heated and pounded down to stretch deeply then each note is chiseled out and heated and pounded up slightly to hold its specific tone. Stretch the bottom too far and the metal ruptures, not far enough and the notes remain flat. The sides of the drum are cut to varying lengths depending on which range of notes the drum will play. The varying lengths give a rich and layered orchestral sound.
Calypso is the most obvious music to be played by pan orchestras but it is easy to find any other musical style adapted and arranged for pans, whether it is pop, jazz, hymns, or even classical music. A mellow rendition will lull you like a gentle tropical breeze on a sunny beach. If it is interpreted "wit' a jump up beat" and fails to get you on your feet and dancing then the coroner needs to be called.
I've found a groovy little YouTube video that demonstrates how pans are made. They won't let me imbed it here so go watch it and then come back, we'll wait...
Pretty amazing huh? Something the video doesn't tell you, because they show a nice sterile looking factory, is that it is only in recent years that there has been any attempt at standardization.
Previously, each orchestra had its own makers and each maker placed the notes on the pans according to their own arrangement. So, if it was with Desperados that you learned to beat pan and then you left because Winston over dere was givin yuh plenty belly and yuh had yuh fill so yuh goin to Renegades and beatin with all of dey...Well, expect to learn to play all over again because Renegades has a whole different set of pans. Remember I told you about the annual competition during Carnival? Each orchestra has it's own pan makers and musical arrangers and it helps keep the finer nuances of the arrangements within the respective orchestras. Interestingly, many pannists do not read music at all and learn the arrangements entirely by ear. and now for your listening pleasure, several different styles of music interpreted on the pan....
An example of classical music on the steel pan...Trust me, here and give it a listen.
A different sort of classic played on pan...In this one you can see playing the steel pan is as much a dance as anything else.
Amazing Grace
Finally, all yuh get on yuh feet and Dingolay (That's Trini slang for dance with abandon)!
Now, steel pan music may be heard all over the Caribbean and across the world, but make no mistake. It was BORN and BRED in Trinidad!
Monday, May 03, 2010
Mini Meme
Jocelyn has a brilliant young daughter who has a penchant for writing surveys and alphabetizing the responses from friends and family in three ring binders. This weekend I was sent this year's survey. Within an hour of emailing it to her I was informed it had been printed out, labelled with my name and home state, and properly binder-ized. I nearly wept with joy over the reference/cataloguing librarian potential this girl exhibits. When I get my MLS and I am finally a children's librarian I want this girl to be my sidekick!
Anyway, back to the survey...Anyone who has read me for any length of time knows what I can do to a meme. Therefore, you also know some of my responses may not be appropriate for a 10 year old to read. Since I really like Jocelyn and think her family is very groovy and I very much would like to continue being friends with her I opted to answer in a proper manner when responding to her daughter's questionnaire. I was also motivated by the quality of question #4 and the child's grasp of grammatical rules, which seem to escape many a meme writer. I intend to demonstrate my ability to be decent by including my original responses but given my inability to be completely serious at all times I will follow them with blog-worthy answers.
1. Rank your favorite colors. The colors will be blue,brown,black,green,purple,pink,white,orange,yellow,red,gold,silver.
10 yr old: I can't choose a favorite because the ones I don't choose will get their feelings hurt. It's one reason I like tie dye. Then I can wear them all at the same time.
Blog: Ok, here is where I reveal the OCD side of me. I'm really disturbed that the list she gives us is not in some semblance of rainbow order. I'm the kid who ALWAYS put her crayons and markers away in rainbow order. I sort Skittles and M&Ms into rainbow order but then I eat them in order of the flavor I like least to the flavor I like best...after I've eaten the extra ones in each color category so all the piles are even. What? You have a problem with that? The only way I can deal with the psychic trauma of this mish-mosh list of colors is to assume she has ordered it from her favorite to her least favorite color. Please someone give me some crayons or markers or candy to sort. I'm getting the shakes.
2. What subject did you hate the most and why?
10 yr. old: Trigonometry because I am not very good at math and the teacher was the second worst teacher I ever had in my life so it made it even worse.
Blog: Trig because having a dickwad teacher who thinks if he writes convoluted equations all over 2 different boards and you copy them into your notebook you will somehow miraculously understand what the hell any of it means without a word of explanation.
3. Where have you always wanted to visit?
10 year old: Greece
Blog: Hugh Jackman's lap
4. What is the kindest thing you have ever done for or to someone?
10 year old: Wow, what an intriguing and difficult question. I think the recipient has to determine what has been kindest. I just try to treat folks in the way I want to be treated and sometimes people come back and say it was a great kindness I gave them. Sometimes something as small as a smile or a kind word can be a great kindness for someone who most needs it. Other times a kindness can be much bigger and a far greater sacrifice.
Blog: Letting someone live to see another day.
5. What was your favorite school you attended and why?
10 yr old: I loved the college I went to because it was a time when I had a chance to grow without interference and to meet so many people from so many different places and learn so much from them.
Blog: The school of life, baby.
6. What do you think is the best invention ever and why?
10 year old: The educated part of me says the printing press so that more people could have access to books. The part of me that likes to be comfortable says toilet paper, and indoor plumbing.
Blog: Chocolate, you really need to ask why?
7. What age do you wish to be and why?
10 year old: Best to just be happy where I am than to wish for something I can't be again or to spend so much energy anticipating the future that I miss the present.
Blog: Eighteen was pretty nice, no physical pains due to multiple physical traumas, also the brain had not been rattled so as to cause the short term memory to go to crap.
8. What makes you feel better when you are having a tough time?
10 yr old: Sincere kindness in the form of a hug and a listening ear. A hot fudge sundae with peanut butter ripple ice cream doesn't hurt either.
Blog: Plotting revenge
9. What is your favorite dessert to eat?
10 year old: Pretty much any dessert that doesn't involve bananas (I'm allergic to them) or coconut (I only like it in savory dishes).
Blog: Hugh Jackman...dipped in chocolate
10. What field trip will you never forget and why?
10 year old: Going to Washington, DC in 6th grade was pretty memorable because it was several days long and I had to stay in a hotel. I felt very grown up going to a big city overnight without my mom.
Blog: Diana's elementary school field trip to the Bronx Zoo when one kid who absolutely refused to use the restroom before departure wound up requiring a Coke bottle be passed to him on the Cross Bronx Expressway so he could pee into it.
11. What did you used to do at sleepovers?
10 year old: Talk late into the night.
Blog: Drink and discuss the finer points of oral sex techniques
Anyway, back to the survey...Anyone who has read me for any length of time knows what I can do to a meme. Therefore, you also know some of my responses may not be appropriate for a 10 year old to read. Since I really like Jocelyn and think her family is very groovy and I very much would like to continue being friends with her I opted to answer in a proper manner when responding to her daughter's questionnaire. I was also motivated by the quality of question #4 and the child's grasp of grammatical rules, which seem to escape many a meme writer. I intend to demonstrate my ability to be decent by including my original responses but given my inability to be completely serious at all times I will follow them with blog-worthy answers.
1. Rank your favorite colors. The colors will be blue,brown,black,green,purple,
10 yr old: I can't choose a favorite because the ones I don't choose will get their feelings hurt. It's one reason I like tie dye. Then I can wear them all at the same time.
Blog: Ok, here is where I reveal the OCD side of me. I'm really disturbed that the list she gives us is not in some semblance of rainbow order. I'm the kid who ALWAYS put her crayons and markers away in rainbow order. I sort Skittles and M&Ms into rainbow order but then I eat them in order of the flavor I like least to the flavor I like best...after I've eaten the extra ones in each color category so all the piles are even. What? You have a problem with that? The only way I can deal with the psychic trauma of this mish-mosh list of colors is to assume she has ordered it from her favorite to her least favorite color. Please someone give me some crayons or markers or candy to sort. I'm getting the shakes.
2. What subject did you hate the most and why?
10 yr. old: Trigonometry because I am not very good at math and the teacher was the second worst teacher I ever had in my life so it made it even worse.
Blog: Trig because having a dickwad teacher who thinks if he writes convoluted equations all over 2 different boards and you copy them into your notebook you will somehow miraculously understand what the hell any of it means without a word of explanation.
3. Where have you always wanted to visit?
10 year old: Greece
Blog: Hugh Jackman's lap
4. What is the kindest thing you have ever done for or to someone?
10 year old: Wow, what an intriguing and difficult question. I think the recipient has to determine what has been kindest. I just try to treat folks in the way I want to be treated and sometimes people come back and say it was a great kindness I gave them. Sometimes something as small as a smile or a kind word can be a great kindness for someone who most needs it. Other times a kindness can be much bigger and a far greater sacrifice.
Blog: Letting someone live to see another day.
5. What was your favorite school you attended and why?
10 yr old: I loved the college I went to because it was a time when I had a chance to grow without interference and to meet so many people from so many different places and learn so much from them.
Blog: The school of life, baby.
6. What do you think is the best invention ever and why?
10 year old: The educated part of me says the printing press so that more people could have access to books. The part of me that likes to be comfortable says toilet paper, and indoor plumbing.
Blog: Chocolate, you really need to ask why?
7. What age do you wish to be and why?
10 year old: Best to just be happy where I am than to wish for something I can't be again or to spend so much energy anticipating the future that I miss the present.
Blog: Eighteen was pretty nice, no physical pains due to multiple physical traumas, also the brain had not been rattled so as to cause the short term memory to go to crap.
8. What makes you feel better when you are having a tough time?
10 yr old: Sincere kindness in the form of a hug and a listening ear. A hot fudge sundae with peanut butter ripple ice cream doesn't hurt either.
Blog: Plotting revenge
9. What is your favorite dessert to eat?
10 year old: Pretty much any dessert that doesn't involve bananas (I'm allergic to them) or coconut (I only like it in savory dishes).
Blog: Hugh Jackman...dipped in chocolate
10. What field trip will you never forget and why?
10 year old: Going to Washington, DC in 6th grade was pretty memorable because it was several days long and I had to stay in a hotel. I felt very grown up going to a big city overnight without my mom.
Blog: Diana's elementary school field trip to the Bronx Zoo when one kid who absolutely refused to use the restroom before departure wound up requiring a Coke bottle be passed to him on the Cross Bronx Expressway so he could pee into it.
11. What did you used to do at sleepovers?
10 year old: Talk late into the night.
Blog: Drink and discuss the finer points of oral sex techniques
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