Long ago and far away ... back when she was young and foolish, the blogger Schmutzie graciously tagged me with the Eight Things meme.
Now, I've participated in the Eight Things meme before--more than once--so I'm not being faux modest when I say I had difficulty coming up with eight new things to say about myself that didn't verge on being very indiscreet.
I mean, hey, here I am laying my life wide open to the Internet--and loving it--but is it right to drag other beings into the spotlight with me? So forget it, Internet. I'm not telling you what a cocktail named the Capecodder, a red-headed boy from Lynn, Massachusetts, and the Rathskellar bar in Kenmore Square did to make me into a middle-aged woman who wonders how on earth she ... but enough of that.
So anyway. Me: Eight things about.
1. I am not at all interested in beet sorbet, so the 29 of you who came here hoping to learn about it had better go elsewhere.
2. I love photography and want to learn how to take pictures. So far I've made the following progress: I bought an expensive camera--the dooce camera, in fact--and I'm producing a lot of blurry images. This?
was not on purpose. So I set myself a task, which was to manage to take a picture of a rooster for Schmutzie's cockroll. A picture that was in focus. (Just so you know, these pictures will appear from time to time in the rest of this entry. Feel free to tell me which you like best. And don't fear the rooster.)
3. I neither like nor dislike dogs, although I do find many of them kind of smelly.
4. I'm physically lazy, which is why I'm sitting here blogging instead of going out for a long walk. And so, I am also large. But not, unfortunately, scary.
5. Some people express surprise that I actually am as old as I claim to be. They think I look younger. (Hey, don't we all?) I attribute this to my very talented colorist and the fact that some tiny percentage of my body weight serves to emplumpen my cheeks. (Of course, being incredibly immature helps, too.)
6. I'm jealous of people who pick up foreign languages easily. I don't. I can bumble along a bit in French only because it was banged into my head for eight years.
7. I've never understood women whose life's ambition is to have children. To me that's like having your life's ambition be to start growing hair under your arms. OK, maybe having a baby isn't as inevitable as growing hair where you don't want it ... but it's not that hard.
8. I disapprove of people who swear a lot. I swear a lot. Amazingly enough, enduring my own disapproval isn't as bad as you'd think. Because what makes me think I'm so smart, anyway? I'm such a fucking know-it-all. I wish I'd just shut the hell up.