Wednesday, February 18, 2009

25 Things

Argh. So I was tagged with this on Facebook about six months ago. OK so it was less, but the pressure... THE PRESSURE!!! It's hard to come up with 25 things that are remotely interesting about yourself, but I figure if it's cool enough for Danny...

1. I do not enjoy eating for sustenance. I enjoy all sorts of foods when eating a meal is the excuse to sit down with friends or family – obviously usually family. I hate interrupting what I’m doing for something as bothersome as eating a bowl of cereal. Or the meat & taters variety. Give me soylent greens in an IV any day. Or bacon (no IV necessary). There: I have revealed two secrets – (1) why I am I-hate-you skinny; (2) why I have an I-hate-you-because-you-don’t-have-to-cook house bitch (Max just got hungry first and then discovered that it was fun! That’s a subject for a post of its own)

2. We have two sets of plastic glasses, and plates & bowls from IKEA – you know, the ones that come in a six-pack (coincidence, I assure you) of six different colours. I have to sort them into the pairs of colours *every* time I see them mixed up. I don’t correct others, or suggest anyone else should do it this way. I do it because it gives me peace. Some times I think Max mixes them up for fun.

3. I have written about 3,500 postings...in my head, putting my batting average at just under 0.001. Not good. Just wait till I get the voice notes going on my crackberry.

4. I can't deal with barf. I could wipe up & sanitize a room & three kids smeared stem to stern with poop (that’s not an offer, btw), but one whiff of the hurl & I’m joining the fray. Hate to stray too far into the poop topic, but when the kids were in diapers (remember, there were three), I proved well beyond faking it that I didn't have a particular sensitivity to No. 2. Those poor kids. You’d think they’d have toilet trained themselves well before it took bribery of epic (and escalating currency from #1 through #3) proportions. So, yeah. No barf.

5. I can't sing “O Canada”. I know all the words and can hum the tune, but I cannot utter the words because my voice gets all chokie, and my eyes well up. Don’t fuck with my country (um, please?)

6. I feel like a creepy stalker on Facebook, but do it anyway. So far it’s just IRL (and a couple of former RL) friends & family, so it’s not TOO crazy. But look out Marshall, I’m coming for you… (you know I mean on Facebook, right? That's all. Just Facebook.)

7. I lived for three months in Thailand as a 10 year old. I strongly believe that this is where I got my attitude towards North American panhandlers. Because we were there for so long (my dad was working), we did not hang in the more “touristy” areas. We got to see *real* Thailand. We walked the real streets. The beggars there had twisted arms & missing legs, few or no teeth and had real pain in their eyes. Not a lot of social assistance ‘round those parts. From the time of 10 on, back in Canada, any discussion of poverty here made me gag. My favourite was a news story about the “poor” financing their necessities like heat & cable (Oh yeah, I grew up in the country where cable wasn't an option – pre-satellite dishes. Yay CBC! <-- tongue firmly in cheek). Anyway, I also couldn't figure out why my parents were still so “soft”. Recently, when I asked them about it, they had no idea what I was talking about. Guess being at eye-level made a huge difference…

8. I don’t particularly enjoy going to the movies. Don’t get the whole pay-$200-to-sit-shoulder-to-shoulder-with-your-friends thing. The big-screen, sure. Sometimes. But, meh. I recall that being the one time I slipped on my personal parenting boundaries & told some new parents that, no, movies WAS the one thing that would have to go. I soon learned that they *really* liked movies and they would swap showings & baby. I revised my parenting mantra: you make your own rules

9. I hate crowds

10. I hate loud and/or conflicting noises. Max can have the radio & TV & iPod & computer on & still try to have a conversation. I run around the house screaming & turning things off (don't point out that the screaming doesn't help. It's not really screaming. It just seems like it in my head).

11. I am a perfectionist - but lazy. Too lazy to continue with this item & explain it, because it would take me too long to perfect it.

12. I have lived in Winnipeg for the bulk of my 40 years but only this year have adopted good snow pants & Sorels. What the hell was I thinking? I love my snow pants.

13. I get freaky, psycho worried when Max is more than 10 minutes late. I build scenarios about how I’m going to cope without him, and for how long I’d quit my job to be with the kids and what else I’d give up to help them cope, and the things I’d do to defer my own depression & misery [and the schadenfreude part: how I’d go about getting a decent contractor to finally finish the fucking basement, BUT then how miserable I’d be with a beautiful basement, without him to share it with]. And then he comes home. With coffee. For me. “I was just picking up coffee”. It’s usually too crazy to go freaky on him. That and I'm too relieved and feeling silly to be mad.

14. I feel horribly guilty when I grow weary of Aspergers. Maybe I’ll go into this another time, but I've got one kid officially diagnosed with it. Another that I’m fairly certain should be and yet another that’s just nuts. (OK, she’s probably normal, but she comes up with crazy shit that makes me ask “where did you come from???? Oh yeah. Me” Yesterday she made up a new language she called "Coo"). Sometimes I’d just like to not have to deal with it. Then I leave the pity-party & remember that it’s actually pretty predictable & easy, & the slip-ups are usually mine.

15. I am pretty sure I should have been diagnosed myself with Aspergers. Hello? Engineer anyone? Going through the diagnosis process (hey that rhymes!) above, every step of the way I was like "Me. Me. Me again. I remember doing that..." I notice patterns in license plates. And floor tiles. Ooo ooo.... don't get me started on odometers!!! Nothing really cool or marketable. Just nutty stuff.

16. I really like working for the government. Impunity aside (it’s fun to have impunity at the same time that everything is your fault!), I relish the idea of being a steward of the public trust. Sometimes I feel I have to be careful & not unlike Galadriel, drop the ring, lest I get too full of myself & the whole public trust thing. So far, so good! :-)

17. I hate getting wet. Swimming is a rare treat. Water gun fights? “Don’t point that fucking thing at me” (I may or may not have cursed at my kids last summer. I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth if I’m threatened with a water pistol)

18. I hate being cold. Same deal.

19. The one single person I love & respect & learned more from than anyone else (the kids & Max are giving her a run for her money, but I think that’s a different kind of love/respect/learning and she’d be down with that anyway) is my grandma. She died - OMG four years ago, and I haven’t shed a tear. While I think it’s really weird and sort of wonder why, it doesn't really bother me.

20. I might just have a teensy-weensy problem with sushi. With many things if I plan, I can maintain self control. At my burger place, I can say "I will not buy french fries" before I walk in, and I'm good [they smell SOOO good, but I end up eating about 1/4 of the bag & the grease does me in]. Not with sushi. All pep-talks are forgotten, all decorum lost. Who the hell drops $36 on lunch? Me. Loser (delicious loser). [Man, I could use some sushi right now]. No, it doesn't happen very often. But it happens. It's Nen's fault. She hung this monkey around my neck.

21. I usually can't be bothered with TV anymore. Even CSI doesn't motivate me to get up. Maybe it’s because I can’t figure out the new digital TV remote.

22. I don’t get the whole chicks & shoes thing. I have a pair of black heels, brown heels, black flats & boots. I have what seems like a couple of dozen pairs of sandals, but I can quit any time I want. Now jackets, I have a thing about jackets.

23. I *missed* grades 2 and 4 (not skipped – won’t go into why) I took grade 6 in BC, and learned math that I wouldn't learn in my current province that I am now currently in and took high school & university, until grade 10. When I mentioned negative exponents to my grade 8 math teacher, she looked at me like I had two heads. And then paid attention to me in math class, and made sure I kept being stuck with the smart kids in future classes (small town – there weren't too many smart kids but I was lucky enough to count them as my friends!)

24. I actually thought maybe I could sing (y’know, with some training & filters) until I saw American Idol.

25. Toilet paper must roll over, not under. I don’t know why I even include this since it's such a no-brainer.

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2 comments:

  1. OK, the toilet paper thing kills me. I just wrote a comment about this on another blog.

    I had a friend once who asked my mom if we always put the paper on "that way" (under, over, whatever was opposite from him). My mom and I both looked at him very confused. Before that moment, we never knew anyone would have a "way". It was just however you grabbed it.

    If you came to my house and turned it over, I wouldn't have even noticed.

    Oh, I did learn later that if you have cats, you want it to roll under... they can't reach up and unroll the whole thing onto the floor.

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  2. barf: barf is good. i have a post coming tomorrow that is barf-tastic.

    cold: cold is bad. i will put a sweater on *and* jack the heat.

    you missed grades 2 and 4? like, how? did you sleep in.. for 10 months? twice?

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