I haven’t posted in two weeks, but I’m going to say a “fortnight” instead, because it sounds cooler.
“Fortnight” is short for “fourteen nights.” I don’t know why they thought half a month would be without daylight, but I don’t question. I just recycle and reuse.
I could say that I didn’t post anything for a fortnight because I am tired, and it would be true.
I could also say that I didn’t post anything for a fortnight because I am writing other stuff, and that would also be true.
But the actual reason behind my not-posting-of-anything for two weeks is that I had nothing going on and I didn’t feel like doing a meme. And you can’t pretty that up by trying to call it a fortnight.
Seriously. The most exciting thing going on in my life is that I found a fuckload of Liam Neeson wallpapers for my Android.
They are so bomb.
Except for the fact that a) I change them up every couple of hours, because Liam Neeson is just that awesome; and b) now I hate logging in, because his face gets all covered up with app icons.
Anyway.
Meme it is, just so’s you don’t forget about me.
As usual, no one is tagged, and I’ll be using complete sentences and paragraphs instead of Q and A format, so my teacher will give me extra credit.
Do penguins count as sea creatures? I ask because the first question in this particular non-meme asks into what kind of sea creature I would like to be reincarnated. No matter. If penguins don’t count, I’ll go with the sea angel. I never saw one before till my office girlfriend made me Google™ it, and they are just as precious as he (my office girlfriend) is. No shit. Like sweet little see-through teddy bears. Also, I might as well be a sea angel next time round, seeing as how I’ve pretty much lived this life as a landlocked devil.
I never, ever go to IHOP. $11 for an order of pancakes is just-off-the-highway robbery. If I want pancakey sorts of breakfasty stuff, I go to Lumberjack’s, which is a bit like Denny’s, only with flannel shirts. We tend to prefer Lumberjack’s in this town because, for some reason, we’ve never gotten good service in Denny’s since 2008 (when we moved to Vegas) except that one time in 2010. Oh, no, wait — we were visiting Connecticut that time. (Speaking of Angels. Heh.) Anyway, I am cautious about ordering pancakes in restaurants, as they tend to overbeat the batter, which develops the gluten and turns pancakes into Cotton Wool Circles of Doom. Eat one and, no matter how much you chew, or how much coffee you drink with it, it will reform itself into a whole pancake in your stomach. A few restaurants do it right, and I trust them. Blueberry Hill (a family restaurant/diner with a few locations in town) knows how properly to flap a jack. At Lumberjack’s, they probably do, but I haven’t tested it yet because they have Cinnabon® French toast, and why the hell would anyone want a pancake if that were available, may I ask?
The last book I read was incredibly bad and a waste of my time. I don’t remember the title. I only read it because it was free, and I deleted it from my Kindle app right after I finished it, because I knew I’d never want to reread it. The last book I read, that I enjoyed, was a reread itself: Life, the Universe, and Everything by Douglas Adams. I have no idea how he became so good at writing novels when he hated it so much.
The wallpaper of my cell phone is Mount Charleston. It was one of the first pictures I took with this phone, and I decided to put it to good use. As far as the number is concerned, if you need it, let me know … but be aware that, if you don’t already have it, it’s probably because I decided you didn’t need it that much. Now, as for the Android, I just had this generic cupcake picture on there till, as I mentioned, the other day, which was when I came to the realization that I really do like Liam Neeson more than I like cupcakes. Which is true about very few things in my world, including people I actually know.
I don’t drink much soda. I like it all right, but not as much as coffee or beer, or energy beverages fizzy-lifting drinks, which I try to avoid because they are not particularly good for me. Soda is very high in sugar, and there are a whole lot of “Where the hell did all those calories come from?” calories in it, so when I do drink soda, I try to drink diet soda, but my favorite sodas do not come in diet. They are Jamaican ginger beer, which is like ginger ale, only sharper; and Mexican Coca-Cola, which is the classic classic Coke recipe (cane sugar instead of high-fructose corn syrup). This is the main reason I drink so much water. Never mistake that fact for my actually thinking, “Mmm, isn’t this water delicious?”
If I could use only one form of transportation, I think I’d go with the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. That’s what I need. A phone box that I could park just as easily outside on the corner as inside in a supply closet. Also, the ability to get to work with my hair dry five minutes early, even if I take an hour-long shower right before I ought to leave the house. Also, have you seen the library in that thing? As Clara Oswald said to the TARDIS, “Okay, now you’re just showing off.”
I was home alone for dinner last night, because That Man of Mine was working. I made a small ribeye steak and cooked it the way I like it, without anyone gagging and saying, “It’s bleeding,” or “Is it still alive?”
My favorite toy when I was a tiny kid was Kimberly. She was a plush doll given to me by my dad, who knew I didn’t like what I called “hard dolls” — Barbies or plastic-bodied dolls that were useless for hugging. We did play together quite a lot, and she rode on my bike with me, but my favorite pastime was reading to her. She was a very appreciative audience.
I buy my own groceries, but That Man has to drive me anyway, so he gets to pick some of them (within reason), and he can reach the top shelves and carry the heavy stuff. Also, he is not only willing to put groceries away when we get home, he insists upon it, because he says I do it wrong. Of course I do it wrong. How else would one get one’s husband to put away the groceries, eh?
I’m pretty sure of two people who discuss me unfavorably behind my back. However, I give less than a fraction of a full, entire shit about either of them, so I just hope they’re enjoying themselves.
My favorite fruit, as I have discussed before, is the Bosc pear. I like the fact that it’s better on the inside than it looks on the outside. I know Bartlett pears have nicer wardrobes, but Bosc pears have better personalities. Or fruitalities. Whatever.
I always wanted to learn ballet. Ballerinas are so beautiful and graceful. I did music lessons instead. I regret not being able to dance, but I wouldn’t trade my musical background for it.
I listen to quite a lot of classical music. Full symphony orchestra when I need to wake up my attitude, baroque when I need to soothe my soul, chamber music when I need to fall into a coma. I also like heavy metal arrangements of classical music. Beethoven and Mozart, had they lived in contemporary times, would both have approved of slammin’ guitars.
The first television theme song that pops into my head is Doctor Who: first the four-beat (the heartbeat of a Time Lord, which has a binary cardiovascular system), for a few measures, then OOO EEE OOO, WEE OOO OOO. I understand that the original theme was recorded using white noise and a single plucked guitar string, which they then turned into music utilizing wave-form oscillators. Electronic music before it was considered fashionable.
People consider me smart even before they know me very well. I get asked questions about some of the most ridiculous bullshit, just because everyone naturally assumes I will know the answers. The fact that I usually do is neither here nor there. I am just the Mom‘s daughter. We learn things, we retain information, and, most importantly, we look shit up.
My favorite salad dressing, if I have made the salad, with mesclun mix and a variety of additional fresh vegetables, is vinaigrette made either with red wine vinegar, sherry vinegar, or lemon juice. If I’m eating one of those restaurant salads where they bring it to you before the meal, with iceberg lettuce and a single lonely wedge of refrigerated tomato, I usually ask for bleu cheese, just so I will have something to taste.
All the members of my immediate family live way too far away from me. They’re in Connecticut or Massachusetts, and I’m in Nevada. I also have cousins in other parts of the world, but I don’t know which of them is the farthest. I’m not sure it matters, because I probably have never met any of them; and if I have, I can’t have made much of an impression.
My first name gets mispronounced all the time. Most commonly, people see the spelling with an “O”, assume it’s a misspelling, and pronounce it as though it were spelled with an “A”. However, at work the other day, a coworker called me by a completely wrong name, and I didn’t know she meant me till she told another coworker that I was ignoring her. Well, that’s what she gets. I have enough trouble paying attention when you get my name right.
I started blogging in November of 2001, but my posts have gotten very few and far-between. Part of it is the fact that I can keep in touch with my friends and family much more easily now than I could in those days before social media and unlimited talk and text. Part of it is the fact that I no longer work for a company that allows personal web use at one’s desk, even during breaks. Most of it is that I don’t think anyone really gives a shit anymore. I only keep doing it because I’m just that fucking stubborn.
I have a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration. I would like to go back to school, but my company will only pay for further business classes, and I want a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing.
My biggest peeve is that everyone seems to want me to call my peeves “pets.” If they’re pets, then, fine. I will abandon them, and you can rescue them and take care of them yourself. My other two main peeves are people who are being paid for good grammar and spelling but cannot manage either one, and trying to lose weight when food is so delicious.
Tags: meme
drinking: ice water
listening to: Black Symphony, Deliverance (Queensryche cover)
alternate sea creature: one of those blue fish like Dory in Finding Nemo. We have the same memory span.