Once a week Cee asks the questions on her blog, and I answer them here on my blog.
•When writing by hand do you prefer to use a pencil or pen?
A pen. No doubt this is because I was taught to write with a Zaner-Bloser pen. This pen had what you’d expect a pen to have: that is, a teacher-approved inky writing tip, guaranteed to help make your cursive writing legible.
But on the other end of the pen was a pointy pokey plastic tip that was good for jabbing annoying boys. As a 4th grade girl might want to do. Should she be fed up with their silliness.
In retrospect this was the first multitasking tool to which I had access– and it taught me that if you make do with what you have at hand, you can solve your own interpersonal problems. Isn’t that right, Danny & Tony?
• Would you rather be an amazing dancer or an amazing singer?
While I like the idea of being amazing I don’t want to be on stage, therefore being an amazing dancer or an amazing singer ain’t gonna happen, kids.
Now should you want to refer to me as an amazing blogger, then we’re getting somewhere. 😉
• If you were on a debate team, what subject would you relish debating?
Ok, again, I’m not one for being on stage so a debate team wouldn’t want me. Regardless of the subject I’d freeze up while on stage trying to declare or contradict or refute– or whatever it is that one does when one is on a debate team.
All those people looking at me… *shudder*
• What are you a “natural” at doing?
I’m pretty good at snarking. Rolling my eyes. Seeing the absurdity in the moment– and calling it out.
Also I can throw ingredients together, sans recipe, and usually make something edible. And I merchandise/decorate spaces by second nature, fussing around with things until they are visually pleasing and inviting.
• Optional Bonus Question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Last week’s gratitude award goes to the fun little video below that summarizes my pre-Easter week shopping experiences. Just like the red bear in the queue, no matter where I went I made some less than prudent decisions about which line to stand in. Gotta laugh, ‘ya know?
This week’s looking forward to something goes to a local garden nursery, only open a few months a year, that’s known for its unique plants. I’ve a list of some small garden tomatoes | peppers | cucumbers that I’m hoping to find at the nursery, so that I can have a manageable veggie garden in pots on our deck this summer.
I HAPPENED TO SEE AN ACQUAINTANCE WHO, after a polite “hello,” launched into a long story about something in her life.
Acquaintance, who is living in the River of Denial, started the conversation, which was really more of a soliloquy, with the words “I’m not a _________, but…” and then went on to tell me about her thoughts and actions that from an objective point of view would say that she is a _________.
“Ain’t it the truth? Ain’t it the truth?”
WHILE I ENJOYED THE THEATRICAL UNHINGED WAY in which she rationalized her behavior, I began to ponder, if given the opportunity, what I was going to say to this woman who, without getting into any of the specifics, I’ll describe as a wackadoodle who needs to see a therapist.
However, being the grown-up that I am I chose to say nothing and remain quiet, listening to her and nodding my head in a supportive way, like an extra on stage behind the lead actor.
As one does, even.
EVENTUALLY ACQUAINTANCE FINISHED TELLING ME HER STORY, and me being me, I said the first thing that floated into my mind. I let her know that I understood what she’d been yammering on about by saying Snagglepuss‘s immortal catchphrase: “Heavens to Murgatroyd!”
And that, kids, seemed to be all that she needed to hear me say to her, thus giving me my opportunity to gracefully walk away from this absurd conversation.
On a beautiful sunny afternoon, I parked in front of the donation door at our local Goodwill. I started pulling items out of the trunk of my car, and was carrying two folding chairs, one in each hand, when I tripped over a 3″ high little curb painted a jazzy shade of yellow.
And with that I face-planted myself on the cement sidewalk.
Save for a small scratch on the little finger side of my left hand & a scrape on the top of my right ankle, I didn’t hurt myself. I went down too quickly to even tense up, plus I’m somewhat plump in my older years which helped keep me safe.
I kind of bounced more than I splatted.
I’ll admit that it was a fascinating experience to calmly realize that I was falling face down onto the sidewalk with no way to stop myself. No one near me to catch me.
Just me on my own, falling down. Unceremoniously.
And what was going through my addled brain as this was happening? Well, to be honest, and you wouldn’t want me to be anything but that, I was thinking: “Hmmm… well at least this will make for a good story.”
Yep, no need to worry about me, my gentle readers, I have my priorities in order.