closing it out

    There are rumors of 80 degrees this week. My snow-removal stuff is still in the back seat. I'm climactically confused. There was frost on my car this morning. I will probably wear sandals for the rest of the week. Make no mistake: I like it.

    No photos yet exist of my new hair. It's the color of the top of a badger's head, between his ears. The style is vaguely the same, just somewhat different in the front. Maybe a little shaggier. Try imagining a combination of these guys' hair in front, with what I've had in the back:

[Matthew Gray-Gubler]

[Peter Outerbridge]

    One last thing about shopping yesterday: VS used to be my go-to, and I've been known to spend a fortune there. Lately, though, I've been rather disappointed. Reasons? There are a few. First, style. The chain seems to be marketing toward two markets: anorexic teenagers ("pink"), and hookers. Without giving too much away... I'm neither seeking "cute" nor "trashy" in my lingerie. Second: fabrics. Lots of what's on offer is either itchy/rough/scratchy, or filled, topped, and wrapped with so much padding that it probably serves as a flotation device. Hey, VS? Newsflash: there's a whole subset (probably not even "sub," even) of women who Do. Not. Want. padding in every bit of lingerie they buy. Third, color. I sought something "light-colored." My options, in one line, turned out to be: retina-piercing lemon; sherbet orange; sticky bubblegum pink (not really "light," that); or mint with a grubby-looking gray lace overlay. I'm sensing a food trend, and also that bras are supposed to be visible at all times. *eye roll* I'm NOT a prude, but I'm seriously starting to miss the days of "shell pink" and "ecru."

    April is Poetry Month. Anyone new to the blog, take note: I post a poem each day in April. That's every single day. Don't let it surprise you. By the same token, you've been warned, so if you don't like it, don't bitch. Unless I love you, if you bitch, I'll ban you. We're clear, yes? Good. Of course, if you do like poetry, it's an awesome way to find some new things, or maybe get a fresh view of something you've seen before. Please do comment (anything except "I don't like this poetry shit" is welcome, truly).

    The Mumbler told a couple of very funny stories today. Well, funny at the time, but in retrospect, they left me ruminating about the nature of attraction and self-fulfilling prophecies. It's bad enough when a good person beats himself up, but if he subconsciously--or unconsciously (another debate!)--attracts others to do him harm, then it seems a duty of those who believe him to be a good person to step in on his behalf. Prehaps, though, my imagination deludes me, and it's not true that fighting another's battle is easier than facing my own.

all this and Scandinavian fish, too

    A day off today, which couldn't have been more perfectly timed. Met the Cat in R-ford--we'd initially planned for W-field, but neither of us really needed to do that sort of shopping and it seemed less financially risky to head west rather than east--at 10. She came armed with a (rather long) list, while I was typically disorganized and aimless. We wandered around the mall (CV) with no serious purpose in mind, popping into stores at random, clearly there more for the company than for the retail opportunities. "Clearly," I suppose, to ourselves and other shoppers, but not to the clerks of a few stores, who tried their level best to foist products and services upon us. The worst were the lingerie mafia (VS), who looked like they'd seen better days, and the smelly stuff brigade (B&BW). My least favorite moment took place in what had to be a cover for a head-shop, given the odd mix of products that were displayed: swords, replica Borg heads, all manner of dragon miscellanea, and quite a lot of cutesy ceramic farm animals. When we were as far into the store as one could be, I glanced toward the cash wrap, only to see the two clerks (?) absolutely glommed onto each other, kissing with so much tongue that I could hear it 25 feet away. We were leaving anyway, but that made the decision to do so that much easier.

    As always, I was not allowed into Abercrombie & Fitch, nor Hollister. *pout*

    Lunch was at a new place called the Brick Beagle...or something like that. We were seated in an alcove in old-fashioned rattan wing-back chairs, and looked like we were wearing Elizabethan collars. Our waiter was an earnest young man who hails from somewhere south of here, but who was also playing up his accent - to good effect, I thought. The Cat seemed less impressed. The food was pretty good, but the high point by far was the bizarre waiter at the next table, who, for emphasis during conversation with his patrons, plunked his hands onto his rear. It had the effect of, to us, appearing that he'd just enthusiastically grabbed his own ass, and from maybe three inches away from our table. It was hilarious.

    After lunch there was more shopping, and then we headed back to my car. At the last moment, we took a short detour and stopped for a drink at a chain sports bar. The very young, possibly gender-confused (but adorable) bartender had a heavy pour, so I stopped with one Bacardi-lemonade, but the Cat's more advanced tolerance allowed her two Bacardi-Cokes. Apart from being accosted by an overly-touchy dude seeking signatures for a ballot petition, it was the perfect way to end the day.

    As I got into my car, the phone rang. Summoned back to reality by the delivery guy's request for attention. I returned the message and came home. It only took one trip to lug everything upstairs, though it was a bit ungainly: the new rugs for my bathroom were all in one bag and surprisingly heavy, and there was a liter of something, too. And a giraffe, among other things.

    Once everything was put away, my plug was pulled. I fell asleep, hard, and only woke when the last truck was picking up across the street. I've been reading ever since, until about ninety minutes ago, when I realized that I never got a response to that text message that I sent this afternoon. I logged in to my Sprinxtel online account, and what do you know: 3 messages that were never sent to my phone, sitting in my inbox. I really cannot replace this terrible service fast enough.

    And, hey, it's 1:30. Maybe I'll go get some sleep.

in honor of the soon-to-depart Sprinxtel

1. How often do you use your cell phone in a typical day?
   15 texts, 2 calls, maybe?
2. Do you use your cell phone more for making calls or sending text messages?
   Texts, definitely. More receiving than sending.
3. What is the highest number of text messages you’ve sent in one month?
   Combination of sending and receiving: close to a thousand.
4. What’s the highest cell phone bill you’ve ever received?
   Solo: $300. Yeah, I didn't intend for that to happen....
5. Take the quiz: What ringtone suits your personality?
   What ringtone suits your personality?

   Sweet home Alabama by Lynyrd Skynyrd

   
   

   
   

   
   

   
   
6. Have you ever used the tune from #5 as a ringtone on a cell phone?
   Ha! Not likely. I'm not the dedicated-ringtone type. I think I have one now - but it would be rather miraculous to hear it again.

[from The Cat, who got it here]

in record time

    This week is a reminder of my status; I have what is known as a job, not a career. Though I generally behave as if it is the latter, it is beyond my magical abilities to make that true. I know that it is difficult to understand why I do this, when there are other options that might seem more remunerative or suitable for other reasons. I honestly like what I do, and more often than not, the people with whom I work are generally tolerable. (Some of them are, of course, fantastic. And some others deserve to die painfully.) Still, at times like this, I know that I cannot do this forever. As much as practicing law would have deadened my soul, this cannot be good for me either. Robert, r, Heidi...you all provide the example. I only need to follow.
    An example of law used as a weapon: "Prodigy, 13, claims age discrimination by UConn." Waaah: 13-y-o homeschooled brat might not graduate with 2 BS degrees in four years, because the school is reluctant to allow him to take a term abroad.

1. Is the 4-year degree a contract between student and university? If not, shut it, kid.
2. "'You have no idea what kids like this experience,' [his mother] said." I can guarantee that he's a social outcast and has no hope for a "normal" adolescence. Congratulations, mom: you made a freak.
3. Schools are not machines. You don't plop in [uniform] raw materials, turn the crank, and after four years at 300° pull out of the oven one fully-formed "adult." There are variables. That's frustrating...and beautiful. Suck it up.

    Only one more item of interest to share: I'm no longer blond.

it's a pleasant thing to be young, and have ten toes

• Pedicure last night: "Bronzed to Perfection." Sandals today [black, of course]. Yay, spring!
  
• The way that I understand it, there are parking rules, something like Urinal Rules. When I park in the last spot on the right, if it's an equal distance from the door of the establishment, you do not park next to me unless all other spots are taken. Why, why, why must people defy the parking rule?
• It's that most blissful time, to which I've looked forward for so long, I can hardly remember when I didn't: my godawful Sprint mobile phone plan is ready to expire. I'm looking to switch mobile carriers, and will obviously also get a new phone. For those who are in the general area, between the city and the Cities: what do you have, what works, what doesn't, what would you never, ever use? Both carriers and phones. Respond by comment or email. Any assistance will be gratefully appreciated.

[title quotation by Robert Louis Stevenson]

fixed, and not broken

    My parents have been and gone. Arrived yesterday around 1:00, I think. We hung out at my apt. until my father's nervous anxiety about my car's flat tire propelled us out to the farm & home store (oh, yeah) to get the tire repaired. In retrospect, it's a damned good thing we left when we did 'cause it took for fucking EVER to get the tire fixed. There was a long line in front of us, and at least one of the technicians was as dumb as a box of rocks. (He came out while we were waiting to ask the ~14-y-o girl waiting with her parents--who seemed to be the only one of her family group who understood English, at least the way the technician spoke it--how to open the hood of their car. I didn't see what they were driving, but I don't think it was a Duesenberg, or a DeLorean. How hard could it be to find the hood release?!) So: bad news, it took hours to accomplish the repair; good news, it was done by the tech who was obviously not an idiot, involved more labor and materials than were written on the work order, and only cost $13.30. (Since I'd expected to buy a new tire, that was particularly awesome.)

    After all that, we were starved. Came back here and ordered a massive pizza from World Famous. It arrived in almost record time, we ate, and they left for their hotel a few moments later.

    They seemed to have calmed down a lot over the period of time that they were here. When they arrived, they were both keyed up. I initially thought that something was really wrong: somebody was ill, or there was other serious trouble that they were working up to telling me. I eventually decided that they'd just convinced themselves/each other that something was wrong with me, and were trying to determine what it was. Once they realized that I'm still me, they could behave "normally" again. What passes for normal, anyway.

    In other news, I seem to have sprained the fourth finger on my right hand. No clue how. It happened sometime Friday, probably afternoon, at work. Symptoms: sore (internally); more painful when touched or moved a lot; slightly swollen; skin almost taut, especially over the half by the nail; slightly warm to the touch; no discoloration. It hurts more to twist it than to bend it--not that I'm doing much of either. It's not excruciating; on a 1-10 pain scale (10=worst) it's a 5, escalating to 8 when I crank on it a lot. That's something I can live with.

    After yesterday's snow, today is once again sunny & beautiful. Time to leave this cube & enjoy it while I can.

bet you know how to make it last forever

Q: WHAT MADE YOU SMILE YESTERDAY?
A: Text messages from an old friend.
Q: WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT 8 THIS MORNING?
A: Just stepping into the shower.
Q: WHAT WERE YOU DOING 15 MINUTES AGO?
A: Quizzing Farmer E about music that she dislikes, in hopes that I won't put any of it on the mix that I'll likely finish this weekend.
Q: LAST THING YOU SAID ALOUD?
A: "Don't forget to come back"--to my colleague, leaving for lunch. (The weather is that nice.)
Q: HOW MANY DIFFERENT THINGS DID YOU DRINK TODAY?
A: Just one: [caffeinated] wild blueberry tea.
Q: WHERE IS YOUR BEST FRIEND RIGHT NOW?
A: At work. It's Friday afternoon.
Q: HAVE YOU EVER MADE UP YOUR OWN LANGUAGE?
A: Not in so many words, but there is a sense in which one does this with a person one loves.
Q: ARE YOU A STRIPPER?
A: No, but others who live in my apartment complex are thought to be.
Q: DO YOU CALL PEOPLE MONKEYS?
A: Not that I recall?
Q: WHAT COLOR IS YOUR TOOTHBRUSH?
A: Green.
Q: WHAT IS OUT YOUR BACK DOOR?
A: More parking lot. Ah, "urban" living.
Q: LAST THING YOU BOUGHT?
A: Groceries, on the way home from work on Tuesday evening.
Q: LAST GIFT YOU RECEIVED FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
A: There were several, including tickets to the Incubus concert, a gift certificate for a massage (always a wonderful gift), and books and gift cards for same.
Q: WHAT COLOR IS YOUR FRONT DOOR?
A: Depends to which 'front' you refer. Downstairs: white. Upstairs: wood, and fairly cheap. Interior: wood, and very thick & heavy.
Q: WHERE DO YOU KEEP YOUR CHANGE?
A: A dollar or two in my wallet, accumulations on the table next to the bed, and eventually in a jar on the bookshelf in the bedroom.
Q: WHAT'S THE WEATHER LIKE TODAY?
A: Gorgeous. According to weather.com: 60°, Feels Like: 60° F, Partly Cloudy, winds from WSW at 13mph. All in all, for this time of year, wonderful.
Q: BEST ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
A: Peach melba.
Q: LAST RAINBOW YOU SAW?
A: Last summer? No clue.
Q: DO YOU HAVE ANY SISTER(S)?
A: In name only.
Q: ARE YOU OVER THE AGE OF 25?
A: Indeed.
Q: DO YOU TALK A LOT?
A: I try not to.
Q: DO YOU WATCH THE O.C.?
A: Never. Did I miss anything good?
Q: DO YOU KNOW ANYONE CALLED VALDO?
A: Not of which I'm aware.
Q: ARE YOU TICKLISH?
A: Yup.
Q: ARE YOU TYPICALLY A JEALOUS PERSON?
A: I don't burn with it, but...yeah. I have my moments.
Q: NAME SOMEBODY YOU KNOW WHOSE NAME STARTS WITH THE LETTER A:
A: That's a hard one. Hmm. Well, my favorite employer's name was Andy.
Q: DO YOU CHEW ON YOUR STRAWS?
A: No.
Q: WHAT IS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?
A: PB&J.
Q: DO YOU WATCH TV?
A: Less than you might think.
Q: HAVE YOU SEEN THE TV SHOW EVERYONE LOVES VALDO?
A: No.
Q: DO YOU HAVE WORK TOMORROW?
A: No, but I almost wish....
Q: EVER BEEN HUNTING?
A: No, but I vigorously defend the right (and responsibility) of others to do it. Even though it's a little scary when certain people do....
Q: IS MARRIAGE IN YOUR FUTURE?
A: Do I look like Kreskin? Who knows.
Q: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAID "I LOVE YOU" AND MEANT IT?
A: I don't say it if I don't mean it.
I didn't say it last night, but should have.
In answer to the question: Sunday.
Q: DO YOU THINK THE PERSON WHO SAID IT TO YOU OR BACK TO YOU MEANT IT?
A: Yes.
Q: YOU HAVE A NICKNAME?
A: Mostly just lame derivations of my name. Borrrrrrring.
Q: DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT?
A: I believe in chemistry.
Well, that's been my standard answer for a while. Maybe it's time to rethink that. Maybe that's all bullshit, too.
Q: ARE YOU A HEAVY SLEEPER?
A: I can be. Was last night, when I came home from work and promptly "napped" for 2 1/2 hours. If I lived somewhere that was quiet and dark, I'd sleep like the dead.
Q: ARE YOU CURRENTLY DEPRESSED?
A: Probably not.
Q: DO YOU THINK ANYONE MISSES YOU RIGHT NOW?
A: I do not. I think I'm rather easily forgettable--engaging and distracting face to face but once out of range, I disappear.

[split into 2 parts, from The Cat, who got it here]

no one knows this more than me

    I was standing in the rain, kissing a man I barely know, my hands held in his and curled into the pockets of his coat. We stood beneath a street light; it was the old-fashioned sort, almost gaslight-yellow and dim, casting shadows more than it revealed anything below. The rain was steady, more than mist but not enough to bother, just thrumming at the edge of my consciousness. I was aware of almost nothing but the feel of him: rough jeans against my bare (skirted) leg, one furry knee angling through a hole in the denim, tickling my own; his shirt crispy on my smooshy sweater; the scratch of 5:00-shadow against my cheek; exquisite tension in those tenderly-held hands; a curious mix of the night's cold and our heat at our faces. It was the best feeling. The best kiss. And then, a car alarm. I jumped back, pulled my hands from his, turned to see--

--and woke up. It was the alarm clock. I was fucking dreaming it.

Uuuuuuugh!

    What a fucking irritating way to start the day. Well, that and I'd hit the snooze button so many times that I was already late for work. I threw on some clothes, made food, ran down to the car, and took off. For once, I was actually glad to get there. Why? Because I'd driven the last four blocks on a flat tire. Got settled (made tea--caffeine was vital by that point) and started texting. I was marooned at work, so I needed to get the tire fixed by remote control. Option #1 (Asking Man) was working all day, but Option #2 (The Mumbler) was both amenable and available. By 3:00, the flat (I'd driven over something metal, very hot. The rubber was melted. WTF?!) was in the trunk, replaced by the never-before-used donut spare. *whew*

    The strangest thing is that, given the way the day started, it wasn't half bad. I worked at the regular place (the day simply shifted a half-hour off its standard schedule), then came home and did the other gig until about 10:30.     

     So here I am, almost full-circle, thinking again about that kiss. How is it possible to miss someone you never got to know? A rhetorical question, naturally, since I do; the why doesn't matter, not nearly as much as do. It's possible like it's possible to be in a room filled with people and to see--to without intent focus on--only one. There you were, and there I was.

noncompliant, eh?

Take Free Enneagram Personality Test

Enneagram Test Results Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||| 38% Type 2 Helpfulness |||||||||||| 46% Type 3 Image Focus |||||||||||| 42% Type 4 Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||||| 66% Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||||||||| 78% Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||||| 50% Type 7 Adventurousness |||||||||||||| 54% Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||| 58% Type 9 Calmness |||||||||||| 50% Your main type is 5 Your variant is self pres

Take Free Enneagram Personality Test

get a cup of coffee--this could take a while

Childhood weirdness

• Did you spend your childhood time with mostly real or imaginary friends? Real. Next door neighbors = twin girls my age and another daughter a year younger. The four of us spent the majority of our time together, year-round, from when they moved in (I was ~3) until I moved out (I was nearly 19).
• Did people consider you an odd child? My siblings thought I was an egghead--they still say I "always had my nose in a book," despite evidence to the contrary. I would guess that most other adults thought I was Very Good.
• Do you have memories that go back to when you were only a few months old? No--and there's a valid psychological reason for that. Thank God. It's all a blur until I was a few years old, and then it's bits and pieces. Holidays and injuries.
• Do you remember any thoughts you had when you where very young? Not specifically. I was timid in "formal" settings, so there is some of that when I think back on school or church. Holidays were a blast, but overwhelming because there were so many people around. Some of it was just diffuse, "happy to be alive" stuff, though. Life was good when I was little.
• Were they intricate or simple thoughts? (It should now be obvious that I don't read these questions ahead.) Although I was capable of complex thought--family lore abounds regarding my tendency to ask unanswerable questions, i.e. "What was there before God?" (around age five)--I think I just usually rode my bike or hit a volleyball off the roof of the house rather than philosophizing with others.
• If you answered "intricate", give an example of one of those thoughts: See above.
• Were you dreams very vivid as a child? Oh, yeah. Always crazy dreams, and in color. Always shifting perspectives, too, from first- to third-person.
• What is the strangest memory you have from early childhood? One of the first times that we were left alone in the evening, my brother and sister had a "mustard fight" in the kitchen. I'm way younger than both of them and was not involved at all, but I do remember the yelling--and I still don't know what prompted them to throw mustard. Do consider that this was before the days of the plastic squeeze bottle.
• Were you a child prodigy or did you display any gifts at a young age? I was reasonably smart, got good grades, tested into a gifted program in grade school, stuck with music from 4th grade through graduation, took whatever art classes were available, and performed very well on standardized tests. I was that kid.
• What was the most "grown-up" thing you ever said as a child? Let's go with the "What was there before God" thing. I'm sure it would still make my parents twitch, even now.
• What were your favorite TV shows in early childhood? Captain Kangaroo taught me everything I needed to know with one phrase: Different people have different likes.
• Were you afraid of monsters? I was skittish of everything, and easily spooked, and highly suggestible. I wasn't a "monsters under the bed" kid--I slept just fine, thanks--but you could freak me by saying that you were going to tell ghost stories. You didn't even have to actually tell them.
• Did you believe that fictional characters were real? In a sense. I definitely thought that M*A*S*H was documentary. (My dad and I watched it religiously.)
• Were you more quiet and artistic or loud and physical? I had my moments of each. I ran around with the girls from next door all day, but when I needed to regroup, it needed to be by myself. I'm a classic introvert. In any case, I'm not "artistic."

Issues and US Stuff

• Do you eat meat? Yes, I do.
• If you do, what is your justification for it? I do not feel the need to justify it--or anything else--to anyone.
• If you could legalize 3 things in the US, what would they be? "Legalize" is such an odd word. It implies that everything starts out in the vast pool of illegality, and we selectively pull out individual items that deserve to be legalized. It reminds me of "unsweet" tea, as if one removes the sweet from it.
• Do you believe in the death penalty? Yes, it exists. I believe it is a strong deterrent to people who choose to believe that it applies to them, and also a political tool.
• Did Mumia do it? In all likelihood, Mumia did something. Whether he did It or not...I am not qualified to judge.
• If you had a choice, which country would you have chosen to be born into? Leaning toward Canada. Reminds me a lot of home, even.
• What are your opinions of Michael Moore? Not fond, regardless of where I stand in agreement with his politics.
• Describe your feelings about marijuana legalization: I don't know anything about the science. The law...well, I've got a very good friend who's devoting his life to this very thing.
• What about gay marriage? It would be great to go a day where I never had to hear about happy people of any orientation. As long as no one is harmed in the process, I've no objection.
• Red, White and Blue is a ghastly color combination, right? Srsly? More important things to worry about. Or not.
• What television news coverage do you detest the most? I never, ever watch TV news. If I did--e.g. if a significant international event occurred on the scale of the terrorist attacks of 9/11/01--I would choose CNBC or BBC.
• What will you do if Bush is re-elected? There's nothing new under the sun.
• Which state do you think will drop off into the ocean first? Voting for Texas (after Beast returns, please), but assuming California. If we get any advance warning, 'r' had better scamper back toward the East, or I'll be pissed.
• Who do you consider "American Heroes"? “I have no heroes. I can find bad in the good and good in the bad.” [David Broscious]

Completely Obtuse And Silly Questions

• Have you ever taken something apart just to see how it worked? Explain: Nah, that's not how my brain works. If I take something apart, it's either to try to fix it, or just to destroy it.
• Do you ever yell at the television while you are alone? This is ridiculous; who ever yells at the TV? It should be obvious that one is yelling at the other team, or the announcers, or the refs, or...get the picture?
• Name a few things (if any) that you bought on Ebay recently: Never have. And it's "eBay."
• Are the Muppets sinister? Think about it: Look more closely into the children's media genre before you start throwing that word around. It gets much, MUCH worse than the Muppets. Trust me.
• Do you watch the Science Channel (Discovery) on a regular basis? Nah.
• Ever gotten into an "in person" argument with a total stranger? Honestly, the last time that I recall is in a bar, innocently talking to a guy, when a girl walked up and dumped her drink on me. Apparently the guy was "hers" and she resented my presence. Why is it always the other woman who's blamed? If you're pissed off at that situation, tug his leash.
• Sugar or Honey? Not a honey fan, though I finally bought some so that Heidi would stop hounding me when she's here.
• What's on your desk right now? What's not? From left:
  • 5 CDs needing labeling;
  • empty contact lens box (reminder to call eye doctor for appointment);
  • letter needing thoughtful reply;
  • 8 shotglasses;
  • 2 bills (due early April);
  • box of DVDs (hmm, where will I keep those?);
  • list of poems for April;
  • ordinary office supplies;
  • velvet mouse-hand wrist-rest (typically used to hold books open instead);
  • iPod AC adapter;
  • Cubs-signed baseball;
  • iPod speaker dock.
• How many e-mails do you receive a day? It varies. At least 10 (so far today). As many as 100 on a very bad day.
• Do you think that time travel is a possibility? If it weren't, we wouldn't be discussing it.
• Have you ever had a past life regression? Good God.
• Are you slightly addicted to online tests and surveys? Addicted? No. I like the stimulus and think it opens up my writing in certain ways, but it isn't necessary.
• San Francisco or New York City? Never been.
• Are you really a famous person undercover on [your blog]? Clearly.
• Are you really an alien spectator studying the human condition via [blogs]? Wow, that would be very boring and tunneled.
• What are your favorite color combinations? Black and blue.
• Close your eyes and type the first random image that pops into your head: Onion rings.
• Do you enjoy night or day better? Night.
• Favorite animal: Cat. The best of them embody the best of social behavior--and plus, they're furry.
• Have you ever been to a protest? Not quite intentionally.
• Aggravated a cop on purpose? Not in his role as a law enforcement official.
• Worst decision you ever made? Leaving.
• Ever gone train hopping/ridden the rails? Eeew.
• Best invention of this century? Worst? Best = iPod. Worst = Tie: YouTube/Twitter.
• If you could choose a time period in which to live, which would it be? I would be an upper-class American or British male during WWII.
• Ever put your hand through a window? Not my hand, but my left knee/leg.
• List a few words you hate the sound of: "sneakers" "yeoman" "pocketbook"
• And a few you like the sound of: "memorable" "meringue" "periwinkle"

Emotions And Such

• Have you attempted suicide more than once? "Attempt" is a strong word. In any case: probably not.
• Cutting? No.
• Do you get violent when you are angry? Not lately. It seems to go in multi-year cycles. I notoriously threw an engagement ring (in box) several years ago, and then had a period of relative calm. A couple of years ago there were some shoe-throwing incidents. Since then, I'm content to deal with things verbally.
• Which emotion are you most consumed by? Good question! I suppose "all of them" isn't a good answer. Prehaps 'discontent.'
• Are you highly emotive? Sensitive, yes. "Emotive"? Not a word that I would use.
• Do you discuss problems or keep them to yourself? There are a couple of people to whom I tell my troubles, and everything else. I don't think that I'm known, generally, for telling everything to everyone. At least, I hope not.
• Do you fall in love easily? "Love" and "easy" should never be used, in any form, together.
• What age/year was the most difficult for you? 1996.
• How do you channel your anger/sadness? I blog, eh?
• Ever been addicted to alcohol or drugs? "While approximately 10 percent of the population suffers from alcoholism, the number jumps to almost 20 percent in the legal profession...." In 1991, "lawyers ranked No. 1 on the list of occupations that were most depressed." In other words, if I had, it might come naturally.
• Ever been homeless? No.
• List a few simple things that make you happy: reading, writing, driving fast, rainy nights, real mail.
• When were you most recently your happiest? Lunch with Cat & Beast. Awesome friends, funny waitress with strange social skills, good food, and nowhere to be for a couple of hours.
• Do you consider yourself empathetic? Yup.

Friends

• Describe your best friend as if you were describing a character from a film: There are a few of them, and they're very different, and entirely unlike fictional characters.
• Do you have friends that are drastically different from each other? Naturally. See above.
• List a few key traits that all of your friends have in common: Patience, humor, intelligence, spirituality/religious beliefs (they don't share the same ones, but each has strong faith in something.)
• Do you keep in touch with friends from high school? Yes. That's one of the benefits--and drawbacks, honestly--of Facebook.
• Are they mostly local or long distance? I suppose they're local and I'm long distance. Most of them are still "back home." I'm the one who left.
• When you go out with friends, what kinds of things do you do? Depends which friends, and what's up. In other words, I've a variety of interests, as do my friends.
• Have you ever been betrayed by a close friend? Yes. It ain't pretty.
• If yes, are you still friends with that person? No.
• Are your friends mostly your age, younger or older? My very good friends are mostly either older or younger. Only my friends from home (i.e. from school) are my own age.
• Do you have a hard time making friends because most people bore you? I'm not that kind of snob. If I have a hard time making friends it's because I'm not terribly motivated, and I work in a MFing cave.
• Do you like to hang out with friends one-on-one or in groups? Typically one on one, but group stuff is good sometimes. Usually best when the whole group shows up. The Mumbler could learn from this.
• Which of your online friends do you have the most in common with? The Cat, obviously. And D---, who is so much like me as to be my spiritual twin, except for his unaccountable taste for curry.

Family

• Are you close to your family? 258 miles, give or take.
• What traits are you glad you inherited from them? Clear blue eyes, a certain basic tolerance, love for music.
• Which traits are you pissed off you inherited from them? Height, chin, analytical focus.
• What sitcom does your family most remind you of? I would have answered this very differently at other times in my life. I don't know that there is one that comes close.
• Does your family live locally or far away? They're local, except for the one that chose to leave a long time ago.
• Have you ever stopped speaking to someone in your family? She stopped, and I've kept up the tradition.
• Have either of your parents died? No.
• Is your family very much like you or are you opposites? Yes, pretty much the same. I'm the outlier in some ways--education, career, personal attachments, location--but elementally we're the same.
• How many siblings do you have? Still just the two.
• Has your family ever thrown food at each other? How weird: as far as I know, only the mustard.
• Are the holidays a nightmare or a time of joy? meh. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and it somehow encompasses both of those. (The nightmare part is all on me, though.)
• Do you look like your parents? Yes. There's no doubting where I come from.
• List one interesting fact about your family: apart from one German twig, my entire family tree is Norwegian and English.

Lovers

• Gay, Straight, Bisexual or no idea? Straight. ("No idea"???)
• Married/partnered? Not for a while.
• Ever gone out with someone you were embarrassed to be seen with? Not for a while. hee
• Ever broken someone's heart? Yes, though I didn't set out to do it.
• How many serious relationships have you had? Depends on your definitions of "serious" and "relationship." And, I suppose, "had."
• Do you believe in monogamy? I've heard rumors of its existence, but like a kangaroo, I've yet to encounter it in the wild.
• Have you ever lusted obsessively over someone you knew you couldn't have? I wouldn't have categorized it as "lusting," but, sure.
• Do you believe in the theory of soulmates? meh.
• Ever cheated? Yup.
• Been cheated on? Let me count the ways.
• Thrown someone's stuff out on the lawn/stairs/etc.? How deliciously trashy! No, I have not.
• Had your stuff thrown out on the lawn/stairs/etc.? ROFL. I so wish.
• Most important emotional qualities of a lover? Tolerance, confidence, integrity, passion.
• Most important physical qualities? I do not have a 'type'--or, if I do, it is not appearance-based.

Food & Drink

• Non-alcoholic beverage of choice: Coke
• Alcoholic beverage of choice: Molson Canadian or Blue Moon, or Bacardi-lemonade
• Foods you crave on a regular basis: It varies, and rarely reaches the point that constitutes "craving." Sometimes salty (sour cream & onion potato chips sound fabulous right now, for instance), sometimes sweet (chocolate pudding earlier this week), sometimes savory (pork chops have been running through the back of my mind lately). Almost never sour.
• Salsa and Chips or Pita and Hummus? Salsa = always good. Hummus reminds me of a past life.
• Meat or Tofu? Meat. Tofu is just wrong.
• Soup or Salad? Not a big salad fan, but now and then it's amazing. Soup is a staple; I make it once a week.
• Soda or Juice? Yes.
• Can I get you anything else? Those half-Ritz cracker, half-pretzel things are weird but good.
• What's your problem? I have several. How about 'indecision'?
• Favorite candy: Milky Way.
• Favorite food to make: Chicken Fricassee
• Food brand that you hate? "Juicy Juice"--the name, not the product (which I've never tried)--makes me want to hurl.
• Do you try to buy all organic? Do I look like a gazillionaire?
• Favorite quick food? Snickers.

Would You Rather...

• Eat a steak or a whole tube of toothpaste? I've taken a lot of quizzes, filled out a lot of surveys, answered a lot of questions, and I think this one is the top of the Stupid pile. Steak = food. Toothpaste = toxic in even small amounts. "Would you rather eat food or poison?" Um, I'll go with food.
• Be covered in papercuts or cigarette burns? Paper cuts, of course. Pretty much like I already am, some days.
• Be perceived as intelligent or street-smart (but not both)? Perceive me as you will, at your peril.
• Eat a bottle cap or a spider the size of a bottle cap? Plastic or metal? I'll take the cap.
• Be ruled exclusively by your heart or your mind? Heart, of course. Mary McCarthy I am not. (“I would rather end the day having had one clear thought than one strong feeling.” [from Memories of a Catholic Girlhood])
• Have the power to read minds or make anyone fall in love with you? Read minds--assuming that such powers go both ways, God forbid some freak could "make me" fall in love with him.
• Chew shards of broken glass or sit on a lighted barbeque grill? I wouldn't be sitting there for long.
• Not be able to tell the time or not know left from right? Time is relative anyway.
• Be able to fly or be able to render yourself invisible? Invisibility would be fantastic!
• Eat 15 feet of aluminum foil or swallow 3 steel guitar strings? Whoever came up with these questions needs some serious psychological intervention.
• Have questionable integrity or no sense of humor? Integrity. At least I'd be able to laugh about it. (Why am I picturing GoodFellas?)
• Always spit when you talk or always be spit on while spoken to? Spit-er, not -ee, thanks.
• Granted the answers to any 3 questions or ability to resurrect one person? Answers. It might not even take three.

Final Questions

• Ever had a great song ruined for you after it was used in a commercial? Pretty much all of them.
• Ever yelled at an SUV? Any driver can feel my wrath.
• A Hummer? OK, Hummers more than others....
• Ever faked being sick to get out of going somewhere? My propensity for migraines was once used by someone else to get us (as a unit) out of a social obligation. It's not something that I will do, because I think that Karma's a bitch.
• Horror film that freaked you out the most? I don't care how lame this is: April Fool's Day gave me goose bumps for a day and a half.
• Horror film that is so scary, you could not be paid to watch it again: El Orphanato was not "scary" but I wouldn't choose to watch it again. Neither Hannibal Rising.
• Bambi or Nemo? meh
• List 3 things that are worrying you right now: money; parents; work
• Are you sick of this survey yet? I'm fairly certain that no one will have read to this point, so I'm sort of wondering why I persist.
• It's too fucking long, right? Yeah. Way.
• Well, I'm just trying to help you pass the time: Time passes whether I'm blogging or not.
• How long have you [had a blog]? This one's been in relatively continuous production since January 2, 2004.
• Do you find it to be a fulfilling experience? More often than not, yes.
• Describe the last dream you had: I was eating tea & toast and watching a movie, curled up on the couch with someone I haven't seen for a couple of months. Thinking about it makes me sad.
• Ever brought a lawsuit against a company? Class Action only.
• Ever sang at a Karaoke bar? Never.
• What was the worst concert you ever went to? Incubus was good, but the weather was wretched (hotter than Hell) and the people around us were drunk and not there for the music.
• The best? Depeche Mode. Most fun I've ever had in a big crowd.
• Do you think you'll ever have children if you don't already? Let's consult the Magic 8 Ball: "Outlook not so good."
• Do you think there is life on other planets? I don't think about it, as a rule, and what I think has no effect anyway.
• Have you ever saved a dying animal? Like, nursed something back to health? Not hardly.
• Most disgusting thing you have ever "found" in your food: Beaks & toes (i.e. that unexplainable tough/rubbery nonsense) in hot dogs or chicken nuggets.
• Have you ever broken a leg or arm? No, but another bone, connected.
• Would you rather stay in the house or do things outside: Depends. It's a gorgeous day, and I've wasted half of it sitting here typing.
• Do people make their own reality? Is there one true reality? Discuss. Please do shut up. Someone I know overuses the word "reality" to the point that I no longer know, or care, what it means.
• David Letterman or Jay Leno? If I can be troubled to watch (which I so rarely am): definitely Dave.
• Last words? "Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge. Others merely gargle."

[PSYCH!]

• What’s the worst food you’ve ever tasted? "Chinese casserole"
• What do you wish your name meant? "Ninja"
• What’s your favorite word? That's a tie between "fuck" (and all its derivations) and "reasonable"--at least in terms of frequency of use.
• What are three things you hope to do before you die? Use my passport (really, how hard would that be?!); undo and redo with Johnnie, and publish.
• What are three things you hope to do after you die? I've got nothing for this.
• What are you most afraid of? arriving too early or staying too late.
• If you found yourself in Mystic Fluffy Bunny Land, and you had to become a door-to-door salesperson to survive, what would you sell? Test prep.
• What's the strangest thing you've seen today? Landlords, being landlords.
• Who's your favorite person? It varies.
• What do you think would be the most horrible way to die? Asphyxiation.
• Fries or salad? Fries. No question.
• Toast or muffin? Toast.
• Rap or country? Country.
• Football or hockey? Football.
• Gold or silver? Silver. Gold looks cheap on me.
• Who do you miss most? Doesn't much matter, does it? "Missed" means gone, and in this case, intentionally.
• Vacation to where? Miami.
• Cremated or buried? Wait 'til I die, please, and then do whatever you wish.
• Worst show on TV? Anything "reality"-based, especially the dating ones.
• Show you don't like to admit you watch? I've seen the last few episodes of Mercy on NBC. That is one terrible television show.
• Last person that made you crack up laughing? Beast and Cat.
• Are you hungry? No, which is odd since I haven't eaten since breakfast (8+ hours ago)
• Who's the most annoying person you know? Besides 1450 of my Facebook "friends"? One of my coworkers manages to irritate me pretty much every time we're in the same room.
• What are you doing tomorrow? Work. If the weather's decent, I'll leave at lunch (trust me, this is news) and go to the jewelry store, seeking backs for a pair of gorgeous earrings that I haven't been able to wear for fear of losing them.
• Are you glad this is survey over? I'm not the only one.

[from The Cat, who got it here]

alas, time stays--we go

• This has been one gorgeous rainy week. Perfect sleeping, reading, and gazing-into-middle-distance weather. Less wondrous for activities like sprinting from the car toward work, or getting to work on time (ha ha), or feeling particularly motivated to buy groceries and the like.
• Maybe I've been watching too much science (or what passes for science) on TV lately, but I'm pretty much convinced that I was surreptitiously implanted with a foreign device, in my brain, that's being used to trigger apocalyptic-level headaches. Because it's obvious that:
  1. this isn't a naturally-occurring phenomenon (nothing feels this bad),
  2. somebody hates me (because I must've done something wrong to deserve this), and
  3. it's being triggered externally and malevolently, because anytime that I really, really just want a beer or a good nap, my head is shrieking and pounding like a 90s rave.
  Doesn't seem fair, really, but I suppose that's the point.
• I've read a few books lately. Like, three last weekend, two during the week, and another two so far this weekend. Not sure what's up with the sudden voraciousness, but I'm obviously enjoying it. Main drawback: dirty dishes and laundry piling up (don't worry, all have been washed. Laundry is even maybe half folded...and in heaps sort of all over the apt.), and somewhat less sleep than would be preferred.
• Saw The Cat yesterday. I was going to write this obliquely, but I'm afraid someone would actually believe I'd been consorting with felines, rather than one of my best friends. As much as I like the four-legged version, this was better for me. She hung out at the workplace with me (did more work than I did, even), and then we had a long lunch with her spouse. It's been too long since we've had a chance to talk, and it went too fast - as always.
  [Gaaah! Gotta get the envelope out of my bag before Monday.]
• The Dirty Mormon rises again. Another message to my work account. For a stupid, disgusting stalker, the dude's got tenacity. This has been going on for years.
• Super Landlord Man "fixed" the light in my bathroom, which has been misbehaving for a month or so. After explaining the problem, patiently requesting assistance, and then hassling him for 3 1/2 weeks until he agreed to have someone check it out, he finally showed up. Walked into the bathroom, flipped the switch, popped the lid off the fixture, and [sigh] screwed in the bulb. Oh, yeah; that was all it needed. In my defense, I didn't know how to remove the lid, had never opened the fixture, and hadn't put in the bulb. Still felt like an ass, though.
  The funny part? Afterward, as he was walking back to the door, he said, "Wow! Those lights [in the parking lot, aimed directly into my windows] are bright!" Yes. I believe I mentioned that before. *eye roll*
• Bacon Omelet seemed a much better idea in theory than it was in practice. It was a new adventure in "salty."
  Oddly--a little sadly--it reminded me of a conversation, begun but (like too many along this line) never finished, about my preference for food without sauce. It began with a statement that I like "a well-cooked steak," which was misinterpreted to mean that I prefer my steak well-done. It sounds silly, but I recall it with a sense of melancholy.

remember how you used to say I'd be the one to run away

    I'm having a difficult time writing again. Not for lack of subjects, or even creativity. It just seems to be happening during periods when I can't actually sit down at the computer and type it out. Ideas come to me throughout the work day; bits of remembered dialogue and photos to scan float from deep in my memory randomly; when I'm driving, I'm laughing to myself, imaging how I'll write the weird interpersonal aura that seems to follow me through this town. Once home, however, and surrounded by bills to pay and laundry to, y'know, launder, it all gets bottled up again. Trapped in some part of my brain that's less accessible than whatever part controls filing and folding. Paul Russell said it just right in The Coming Storm: “This subject he knew everything and nothing about. It wasn’t so much that he had no thoughts in his head, but rather that, constipated from years of withholding, they now refused to issue forth.” I'll give them another day. Maybe tomorrow.

h'llo?

    Someone I used to know, who lived a couple of time-zones away from me, made a habit of regularly calling or texting while driving home late at night. In so doing, I would be awakened, and kept awake. At the time, it was, if not annoying, certainly...disruptive. It was not long before I began to anticipate the calls, however, and eventually to appreciate them. Of course, in the period since then, the appreciation has overtaken the sense of disruption, and the nostalgia has weakened any memory of grumbling lack of sleep or discomfort later. I just miss it.

    This is not a request for random late-night text messaging. If anything, it's intended prescriptively: consider that the things that you choose to do, or not do, matter. Prehaps not to you, but someone else may be affected in a way you don't even realize.

we would have such a very good time

    Photos from the rat-hole! Standing in the kitchen, shooting westward toward the vanity (hard left through that doorway [with vinyl accordion "door"] to bathroom). Yes, there would have been more space in the hallway if John hadn't stored his bike there. Eventually, there would be a cooler with a toaster oven parked in the middle of that hallway, too...because if it was plugged in on the kitchen circuit, it blew fuses in the girls' apartment upstairs.

    Wave 'Howdy' to Dick Head!
    This is essentially the same shot but from about three feet further East. This shows our "breakfast bar," and Ann in what remained of the living room after it was chopped in half to make Head's kennel.
    This is the room that Ann & I shared. The photo is taken from my shelf (i.e. "bunk"), facing East. Please note the exceptionally large, furry rubber spider dangling from the light fixture. For the entire year, John and I tormented each other with that spider. He planted it in my underwear drawer. I put it inside his pillowcase. He replaced the contents of my cereal box with it. I tied it loosely to the business end of the shower head. You get the picture. Judging by the look on her face, Ann was weary of our shenanigans when this photo was taken.

    More to come - it's taking a while to sift through the old pics.

my own internal breakfast club

--Goth--

• Do you wear black eyeliner? When I can be troubled to wear eyeliner, it's black.
  
• How much black clothing do you own? Probably 75% of my wardrobe is black. Don't like it? Fuck off.
  
• Do you think about death often? What's 'often'? No, seriously: probably not that much.
• Do you want to die? No sooner than necessary, but I'm not holding out, either.
• Are you a social outcast? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Thank God.
• Are you pale? Yup, though I don't seek it out.
  
• Do you cut? Myself?!? Eeew!
  
• Do you like Hot Topic? Hot Topic makes me almost intolerably weary. I put up with it once or twice a year with The Cat.
  

--Skater Punk--

• Can you skateboard? Doubtful.
  
• How often do you go into Pac Sun? Never.
• What's your sneaker brand? Depends on the purpose for the "sneakers," which is a word that I would never spontaneously use.
  
• Do you do stupid stuff with your friends? Generally, yeah.
  
• Are the long skater cuts hot? I've been known to fall prey to the skater look once or twice, but it's been a while.
  
• How much do you get in trouble? Not very often, but when I do it usually burns deep.
  
• Do you listen to the bands who are considered "posers"? You do know that's spelled 'poseur,' right?
  
• How many piercings do you have? Six, at the moment.
  

--Prep--

• How often do you say the word "like"? Now and then. I mix it up some.
  
• Do you shop at Abercrombie and Fitch? The Cat won't let me. *pout*
  
• Are the A&F models hot? Never been a big fan of models. Prehaps that's something to consider.
  
• How many purses do you own? Dunno. Four? Six? There are two that I use fairly regularly - and the origin of one comes as a shock, apparently.
  
• Is lipgloss a must? Lipgloss is irritating as hell with long hair, but needs must when the devil drives.
• How often do you wear makeup? To varying degrees, most of the time...usually.
  
• Ever had a manicure? Yes.
• Rock music is bad, right? Bite your tongue.
• Are you ever ditzy? Uh, no.
  
• Do you own high heels? Yes.
• Have you ever said "Oh my gosh"? Not in recent memory.
• Are you a cheerleader? Never.

--Hippie--

• Is your hair long? Longish. Now and then I think about letting it get longer...and then it flies in my eyes on a windy day.
  
• Are you a vegetarian? Not even close.
  
• Do you own a tie-dye shirt? Not since college. See "black," above.
  
• Do you want peace? Only on my terms.
  
• Do you want to save the animals? Yes.
• What do you think about the war? I try not to. [No, this is not a serious answer.]
  
• Have you ever made a peace sign with your two fingers? I generally just make a V. Or "two."
  

--Gangsta--

• Are you from the ghetto? Not even relatively.
  
• Do you own "bling bling"? I have bling. I do not duplicate.
  
• What do you think about do-rags? *snicker*...memories!
• Do you like rap? Some of it is wonderful--like pretty much any genre.
  
• How about hip-hop? Yeah, that too.
  
• Was Tupac truly the greatest rapper in the world? It's all in the ear of the beholder.
• What do you think about afros? I try not to. For most people, that's a nasty, nasty look.
  
• Have you ever said 'fo shizzle'? Yes, and I almost immediately regret it.
  
• How about 'oh, snap son'? God, no.

--Frat--

• Is life a party? Sometimes yes; sometimes that could not be more wrong.
  
• How often do you get drunk? Now and then. I occasionally think that I need to drink much more heavily, much more often. (But Never. Ever. EVER. Tequila. Ever. Again.)
  
• What's the point of getting drunk anyway? Lubrication.
• Do you care about your grades? Yes.
• Do you need attitude adjustment? Yes. Who doesn't?
  
• How far have you been? All the way, baby. [now the Cat can roar, too]
  

--Emo--

• How often do you cry? It's not something that I schedule. I'm not a big cry-er but when it happens, good luck stopping it.
  
• Do you have an ex? Yup. Maybe more than 'an.' Timeline may be forthcoming.
  
• Do you have an acoustic guitar? No--and that renders one emo? Srsly?
  
• Are you emotional? I prefer "sensitive."
  
• Do you like soft music? Depends.
• Do people understand you? Nah. I mumble (though not as badly as, y'know, The Mumbler).
  
• Do you write your own songs? Hee. Hee hee hee! No.
• Is your hair dyed dark? There are brief periods of dark within the hazy blondish.
  

--Jock--

• Do you play any sports? I like the indoor sports. Oh, seriously--like pool.
  
• How important are they to you? Sports, or jocks?
  
• How important is your reputation? It matters. Maybe not as much as, say, oxygen, but it matters.
  
• Do you pick on the geeky kids? Yup. I'm ecumenical in my picking, though.
  
• What do you think about football? mmm, Big Ben...
  
• Are you considered a bully by anyone? Definitely. Four out of five coworkers chose me to win a theoretical single-elimination fight-to-the-death tournament!
  

--Geek--

• Do you wear glasses? Very rarely. Vanity, thy name is 'Amy'. In other words, if you've seen me wearing them, then you know me *extremely* well.
  
• Do you get good grades? almost good enough
• Are you smart? Naturally!
• Do you use an inhaler? No.
• Do you stick pens and calculators into your shirt pockets? Pens in my hair or behind my ear all the time. Calculators? Who carries calculators??
• Does your mom buy your clothes? Never. Ever.
  
• How often are you on the computer? Now and then. Less than before.
  
• Do you get picked on? Not ever.
  

[from The Cat]

wtF?! you could put an eye out with that!

    Discovered while scrolling through Amazon's featured New Age music, at work, for work, earlier this afternoon:
    Sexy Romantic & Divine, eh? After I was done choking with helpless laughter, I had to question whether my own definitions of those words--particularly the first and last--coincide with the rest of the world's. No conclusions yet.

exploring the depths

    Had a weird déjà vu moment last night in the shower. No, it wasn't "I think I've showered before." I was washing my face, rather quickly, and flashed back to one afternoon during my junior year in college. I was living with three friends--we'll call them Ann, John, and Head--in a rat-hole apartment a couple of blocks from campus. There were four apartments in the house: two girls lived on the second floor, a guy/girl couple lived on the main floor, two guys lived in the "garden" (i.e. basement), and we had a sort of slice off the back of the house. Only two rooms in the apartment were on the same level; everything else was connected by stairs...or ladders. At its widest, the apt. couldn't have been more than 12 feet across. Ann and I shared a bedroom (though not a 'level'--my bed [really just a bare mattress] was on a bunk built into the wall about four feet above floor level of the rest of the bedroom, accessible by a ladder), John had his own across the hall (though to get there from our room, a set of stairs was necessary), and two more sets of stairs below, Head had a bedroom that had been built by dividing the living room in half. Up one-half flight from there (and under the main stairs) was our only storage on the "main" floor. Another half-flight led to the kitchen. From there, it was down two stairs into the hallway (not wide enough for a man to walk comfortably), at the end of which was a vanity, because it would not fit into the incredibly tiny 3/4-bathroom, which was probably not more than 4 feet square. Yes, there was a sink, stool and shower in that little space.    

    Hell of a lead-in to my story, since that shower is where the action took place. Oh, I have your attention now?

     I'd just started dating a guy and was still in the stage of trying to impress him, mostly by behaving in ways that were totally unlike me--like being on time and willing to do all sorts of things (like volunteering) that are not in my ordinary social range. On the particular day in question, he was coming over to pick me up and we were driving someplace together, so I needed to be ready at a specific time. I'd dawdled and procrastinated and suddenly it was way past time to be in the shower. According to custom in our apt., it was totally appropriate for this guy to let himself in and just wait for me if I didn't hear him come in, so I knew he'd be fine waiting for me, but I didn't want to make us too ridiculously late for wherever we were headed. Therefore--

    I hopped into the shower and started madly working through the usual routine. Shampoo I., wash, rinse, shampoo II., wash remainder, rinse, condition, wash face, rinse, done. It all went along fine until I heard a noise in the apt. and my heart started racing; I knew it was him, that I was even later than I'd thought, and that I had to step it up. Just then, I was starting stage #8. Squirted some face goop into my hand, smeared it on my face, moved it around...enough..., turned into the spray of the shower to rinse it off, and brought up my hands to aid the process.

    Only, somewhere in there, I managed to clip the edge of my nostril with my pinkie nail. (My finger nails were remarkably long and strong at the time.) Without realizing that I'd done it, or maybe even knowing it but without realizing the eventual impact, I continued what I'd begun: I made that universal up-and-down motion on my face, rinsing the soap from my skin and out of my eyes. Just, with one pinkie sort of, um, slammed up as far as it would go into my nostril. By the time it consciously registered, it was far too late to do anything about it. It didn't hurt at that point. In fact, it was surreal. I had to think about disengaging my finger from my nose.

    Once I did that, it was as if a dam had broken. There was blood EVERYWHERE. When I looked down at my finger, not only was it coated with blood, but the end was pinkish and a little meaty-looking; I decided that it was probably brain tissue. I've had many, many nosebleeds in my life, but none come anywhere close to that one: blood was *spewing* out of my head. It was almost funny, and I simply watched for a while. Until I realized:     

     Oh, crap. He's waiting!

    I finished rinsing the conditioner out of my hair and got as much blood off my skin as possible. I wrapped my hair in a towel and myself in another, and looked for something to stanch the flow of blood. There was nothing in the bathroom for that. I mean, zero. We were out of TP, there were no Kleenex (of course), and I was already wearing the only two towels in the room.

    I walked into the kitchen. My fairly new boyfriend was sitting at the breakfast bar, reading the campus newspaper. He turned to say Hi, and recoiled in horror. "Wha--?"

    It was a long time before I told him the whole story. How could I? He was studying to be a psychologist.

    Later this week, I'll comb through photographs from that era. There should be something worth scanning & sharing.