For My Dad With Love From The Punk

I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot today. Why?  Simply put, he’s the greatest guy ever.  My dad has been a huge factor in my discovery of everything I love about this world, and in learning how I wish to live my life.  I don’t think he realizes how much he’s influenced me.

(click any picture to see it in Big Retro Glory!)

When I became old enough to move out on my own, it took me a long time to settle down and to get my head screwed on straight, I’ll freely admit it. But I like the person I’ve finally turned out to be.  I’ve realized that I embrace the Do-It-Yourself lifestyle.  I’d rather make something than buy it, I’d rather grow it than grocer it. When I see an amazing device, I can’t help but wonder how it’s made. My lifelong love of reading books has finally pushed me to the point of joining  those who call themselves authors.  And everything I’ve just mentioned can be traced directly back to things my dad taught me or encouraged me to try.

I feel lucky to have had the good fortune to grow up when I did – my childhood was sandwiched into the years between a war in Korea and a war in Vietnam.  I firmly believe I had more freedom as a child than could ever be possible today.  My freedom came with a price, however. Now and then something truly awful would happen and I had to face the consequences, but that’s okay. It’s how you learn to make future decisions and live your life.  My childhood world contained liberal layers of lead paint and probably asbestos. But I had no fear of rolling balls of mercury round in the palm of my hand, or playing with sharp pointy toys, or of wielding woodburning tools. I rode unsafe at any speed bikes and shot down hillsides on flexy flyers. I scampered around semi-dry river beds filled with stagnant pools of water and unstable rocks, sped around public racetracks in motorized go-carts, bounced on big public trampolines, rode in cars without seatbelts, and spent lots of quality playtime in the middle of the street.  In spite of, actually I’d even go so far as to say BECAUSE OF my ‘dangerous’ childhood, I’m still standing – and still fairly healthy!

I feel the era I grew up in was absolutely wonderful for exploring science, nature and the arts.  We didn’t yet have computers, but guess what we did have?  Big boxes of old radios, given to my brother and I by  Dad, along with screwdrivers and pliers. There is NO better way to while away a warm afternoon than taking stuff apart and rebuilding the bits into something new. Often accompanied by my little brother (who made a great sidekick), I continually  dove into silly, fun and oft-failed experiments, but that’s all right. We formed memories, learned skills, scared the neighbors, and laughed a lot.

Here are some of the areas of my life that simply would not be the same without the guidance and influence of my dad.

  • Sounds – The strong yet subtle sound of wind whiiiishing through a wiffleball as I smacked it around the yard with an old golf club. The strangely satisfying crisp-clink sound of poker chips in play during Dad’s weekly game. The lawnmower – which was often not-so-subtly pushed RIGHT up under my bedroom window on many a Saturday morning. (I have never been a morning person, ever.)
  • Exercise – The muscle of my upper arm tightening as I spun a psychrometer to measure the air’s relative humidity. Trying to get the hang of a pogo stick built out of metal pipe with a garage door spring inside of it. Sifting river rocks through a screen to clear the dirt that would eventually become our backyard.
  • Mad Science – Carving balsa wood nose cones for our homemade rockets, firing them in a nearby field, and watching them parachute back to earth. Or explode. Whatever. The Christmas I opened a beautifully crafted wooden box to gleefully discover it contained all the accompaniments to the microscope that was my main gift that year. Among the items in the box were some AMAZINGLY sharp scalpels.  I was twelve and got scalpels for Christmas.  Did I mention I grew up in more relaxed days?
  • Competition – Crafting slot cars to take down to the local hobby store track where I felt accepted as a racer, NOT mocked as a girl. Conversely, I was awful at team sports at school. Softball, dodgeball (the horror!), volleyball, all of those school sports left me scarred in more ways than one. But my Dad loved golf,  and gave me a few easygoing lessons in how to hold the club, stand, swing… never with any pressure put on me.  As a family, we often went minature golfing, and I think those lessons are the reason I was a TOTAL STAR at miniature golf – and loved it!
  • Patience – The utter tedium and mess of wet sanding the black primer on my dad’s 1929 Model A pickup truck restoration.  Trying to learn to cook on my own. I believe the first meal I ever made my dad was a hamburger patty and creamed corn.  The corn burnt to the pan, the patty was raw inside and black outside, but I do not have any memory of him complaining!
  • Humor – Making fun of those old Lee oil filters my dad loved to use – the ones that required a roll of toilet paper for the filter. That old ‘elephino’ joke dad told that took me years to finally get. My dad’s frequent and easygoing laughter at whatever was funny at the moment.  Our mutual love of Charles Shultz and Peanuts led to frequent mutterings of  “I got a rock”.  My ever-shrinking nickname, which he’s shortened over the years from punkinhead to punkin to just punk.  But dad also still calls me his Big Girl.
  • Flying – My dad built wonderful radio-controlled model airplanes and helicopters, and was a private pilot himself!  I have clear memories of Pearblossom Airport. I’d watch dad  in his engine-less sailplane, being towed up to a release altitude by another plane.  Then he would enjoy a long, lazy spiraling trip back to earth, dancing on the air currents, while I lay on the grass watching him.   Once we flew up to Big Bear in a little 4 seater plane, and I was so relaxed and happy, knowing with confidence that my dad had full command of the aircraft.
  • Technology – My dad built Heathkits. 🙂  Those of a certain age know what I mean.  If you’re not familiar with Heathkits, they were the cutting edge of technology in their day! Dad was nerdy in the good ways. He worked as a draftsman and designer in the land of transducers, and at one point worked on some widget for JPL in Pasadena… I wish I could remember more about that.  I’m also proud to say that my dad knew how to use a slide rule quite well.  He was the Sultan of Slideruling.  And his natural inclination towards machinery has a creative outlet, too!  He loves clocks. Dad has built and fixed up quite a few of them, and being in his home at the top of the hour is an experience that will definitely ring your chimes.
  • Animal Rescue – Long before rescuing became socially trendy, I had a passion for animals.  My parents fully supported this by accepting into our family whatever lost creature came home with me. Dad built elaborate, sophisticated hutches, with attics and shingled roofs, for our ever expanding furry family. He grew very fond of Bosco, a Flemish Giant rabbit I found in the field at the end of our street. He also allowed space for two tame-ish Dutch rabbits and two completely wild  jackrabbits that my brother found (those didn’t work out so well, but we were allowed to try to help them).  And the guinea pigs!  Lots and lots of guinea pigs!  Those were my first love and Dad made sure they had every luxury.  A large desert turtle named Yertle roamed the backyard and occasionally escaped for a slow walk down the sidewalk, but the neighbors always brought him back home to us. Sam the Siamese was one of the best cats I have ever known.  Many of our pets were rescues. All of them were loved and given the best of care, thanks to skills I learned with the help of my parents.
  • Nature – We took vacation road trips to the desert to see meteors and petrified forests and caverns filled with stalactites.  Sometimes there would be a Sunday drive up to Big Bear, where occasionally I would see actual SNOW.  This was a big deal for me, growing up in Los Angeles county.  I was allowed to collect and raise polliwogs to frogs in coffee cans, pull the tails off lizards (and keep the tail to scare my friends), and hypnotize horny toads (yes, I did).  I found it relaxing to drag magnets through sandboxes and sand piles to collect the iron filings.  One of my odder memories is of getting excited to see the ‘sewing machine’ oil pumps off the highway – that meant we were very close to the beach, and I loved the beach so much!
  •  Art – Now this one he will probably deny, but my dad is an artist.  I think it’s a natural offshoot of his technical drawing skills.  The best showcase I can remember for his art was his design for the city of Sierra Madre’s rose float one year.  His concept was the Kon-Tiki, moving through the waves, father wind blowing into it’s billowing sails, being led by three dolphins.  I enjoyed being able to help build that float, and I learned a lot about hardtack glue that year.
  • Writing – In grade school, I discovered I  loved words a lot more than numbers (I sucked so badly at math).  I know my dad often wished I was better at math, but he balanced his feelings with a LOT of encouragement and praise for my writing.  I was ‘published’ in our grade school’s annual creative writing booklet nearly every year. As much as I loved being included though, my dad’s praise for the work (mostly poetry) meant more to me.
I love you, Dad.  Thanks for EVERYTHING!
 

 

2012, meet 1977. I think you two might get along.

I have been inadvertently plunged back into the 1970’s this weekend.

Firstly, I learned yesterday that one of the biggest influences on the evolution of my sense of humor, Peter Bergman, 1/4 of the Firesign Theatre, lost his battle with leukemia. Goodbye my friend.  I still recall the days back in 1977, up on Capitol Hill in Seattle, when I’d climb the rickety slapped-together outside staircase to the second floor of the Victorian house I rented a slice of (oh it was SO badly hacked into 6 bizarre apartments) clutching my latest newsletter from Four or Five Crazy Guys. These were the days before the internet. Hell, these were days before average schmucks like me had ANY sort of electronic device beyond a telephone, radio, simple stereo with turntable, a television, and if very lucky, a Texas Instruments calculator.  The US mail service *was* social networking.  And amongst my bills, weekly letters from gramma and those damnable Fingerhut catalogs was the coveted, crudely made, absolutely brilliant newsletter David Ossman used to send out, known as the Edison Electric Journal. I loved it.  I devoured every word, I fondled the ink, I wrote letters back with my reactions and feedback. It was a point in time when you did such things.  Sometimes they’d write back. People had more time for actual letter writing then.  I regret that I no longer have my stack of EEJ’s, but I can still envision them in my mind, and the memory makes me smile.

Oh, Peter. The Firesigner I shared a November 29th birthday with.  My Lt. Bradshaw. The one with the best toothy smile mankind has yet produced.  Thank you for everything. Doors open in five seconds. Pluck a duck, who have I got to lose? Peter – follow the rubber line to your seat.  The rest of us will be along soon enough.  Because, in the long run – aren’t we all Bozos On This Bus?

Peter Bergman – parting words on Radio Free Oz March 6th 2012

And so Friday was spent in reminiscence of Peter, and of Firesign Theatre.  But Saturday was a day to think of the other big influence on my life in the 70’s… Al Stewart.  Ah, you know. Really – you do! The guy who wrote and performed Year Of The Cat. Al played this evening at the Charlotte Performing Arts Center – which seats a max of 825 folk. Really a nice little venue.  And we were there.  Al played side by side with a wonderful guitarist named Dave Nachmanoff.  Look for Dave’s music, it’s worth the search.  It was a great evening – topped off with the fun of blowing some cash on a pile of CD’s, and getting them signed by Al and Dave.  I was lucky enough to get a bit of time after the show to meet Al, and  listen to him talk about the art of crafting songs. This included a “How To Write A Song” tabletop demonstration featuring a conceptual cucumber, a cd case, and drawing of invisible fingertip lines on the table. The Secret now remains safe with me. 🙂   Just as Firesign Theatre has been a big influence on my sense of humor, Al has been important in my appreciation of wordsmithery – illustrated nicely in Soho – Needless to Say and also in Terminal Eyes.  Beyond that, I hesitate to speak of all the various ways Al’s music affected my life – especially in the 1970’s.  I do not wish to overly shock my friends. (but I DO wish to leave them intrigued!)

All of this, and yet I still have one-half of my weekend left to experience. I wonder what Sunday will bring? Whatever it is, I shall hold onto my 70’s roots, and face you down. Hell, I carried a wood and rattan rocking chair upside down on my head all the way up Capitol Hill from downtown Seattle, back in 1974.  I can damn well take on whatever Sunday, March 11, 2012 cares to throw at me.  I’ve passed the tests. I’m tempered by the best of times. I’m tough as steel.  I’m vintage gold.  Bring it. Let’s dance.

A Rare Real-Life Ramble: Cupboard Cleanout

And being that Ceejay’s typist is quite the foodie, I just wanted to babble a bit after a rather nice weekend that was filled with rest, relaxation, good times with dear friends, and lots of kitchen madness.

Most of my creations this weekend were based on trying to make good use of ingredients that have been in the kitchen a while, and I did not want them to get so old they needed tossed. I HATE WASTE!   So, from that frame of mind, this weekend’s treats included:

Friday dinner: Leftover venison chops, which I pulled apart into fine shreds, simmered in a bit of gravy and heaped into small hoagie rolls.  For the side dish, we’ve had an overabundance of potatoes, so I sauteed up a panful of quartered red potatoes with rosemary, salt and pepper. Yummo.

Saturday Breakfast:  I took all the leftover sauteed red potatoes and chopped them up, then re-sauteed them into a savory hashbrown to have with omelets.  VERY tasty and I recommend that as a use for leftover cooked potatoes!

Sunday Breakfast Treat: My sourdough starter came into use – I made a dough, rolled it out and cut it into long strips. These were covered with cinnamon, dried cranberries (rehydrated slightly in boiling water), white chocolate chips and brown sugar.  I rolled them up and viola!  Sticky buns. After a second rise, I baked and coverd with a white confectioner’s frosting.  VERY decadent and got those aging cranberries and chips into good use!

Sunday Dinner: Tonight I’m crockpotting three chicken breasts in water that’s been seasoned with celery powder, garlic, bullion, dried green onions and sage.  (thus using the aging celery powder and green onions).  The broth will be used with a big jar of homemade croutons (yes, they need moved along too) to make an oven baked pan of stuffing.

So overall, I’m eating like royalty, when all I’m really doing is moving along some older ingredients.  But it’s a fun thing to focus on – and often results in some good inventions or new favorite dishes.

Checked your own cupboards lately?

For My Font Junkie Friends

Sometimes too many choices is too much!  I tend to be better at content than appearance, but I’m trying to make a website (not this one) look nice.  AND I just happen to know that I have smart friends who are very adept at this sort of thing.

So! Here’s the challenge.  Help me make things purdy!  This will be for a site focused on coffee and chocolate, if that helps.  I’d also love suggestions for color schemes (if you really want to show off, give me those 6 digit color codes!)  Feel free to comment to this post with any ideas!

I need to choose font styles and sizes for:

Main Font
Blog Title Font
Index Post Title Font
Single Post Title Font

Here are my available fonts:

Arial
Courier New
Georgia
Lucida Console
Lucida Sans Unicode
Tahoma
Times New Roman
Trebuchet MS
Verdana
Adler
Chantelli Antique
Chunk Five
Existence
Galatia
Garogier
Jott FLF
Laffayette
Quicksand
Riesling

6P, Or Not 6P

…. is no longer the question.  Today, I bid farewell to my beloved Hewlett Packard 6P printer, which I purchased at work when I was hired here, in 1997.  Even THEN she was a soon-to-be-discontinued model, circa 1996.  In all these years, we’ve been together, and my 6P has never once needed any sort of service at all. I just fed her a new cartridge now and then and all was well.The Most Wonderous 6P

But recently, she stopped pulling paper from the tray -I think her poor little rollers had just pulled through so many thousands of pages that they got tired.

I had hoped we’d begin and end our university careers together, but I’ve still got 5 years to go, and well, SixPee just wouldn’t be able to walk into the light with me. I said my farewells as they put her on the cart (I’m feeling better! Think I’ll go for a walk!) but refrained from hugging her due to my co-workers already thinking I’m weird.

So, today we installed a Brother MFC7360N Printer.  She’s nice. Shiny. Knows how to scan.  I like her.  She’s no 6P, but time does march on.

brother printer

 

The Duality of Reality

Greetings from Ceejay’s typist! This is the first actual ‘new’ post in this website. While there are oodles of other posts, they are older, having been imported from a google blog that is no longer in use.  If you’ve linked in the past to Ceejay’s World, you can remove that link and hopefully will be inclined to now link to this site, which is Ceejay’s very own registered domain. She feels so ‘real’ its rather unnerving to her! Now I will hush and let her talk.

… is she done now? Good. Ceejay here, and I wanted to talk about how utterly surreal it is to have a virtual reality wrapped around your shoulders like a warm cloak.  Yes, you heard that right. I am an avatar in a virtual world and right now my typist (that’s the lady that lends me her fingers so I can talk) is in the midst of writing a book about the story of my life.  My reality is having another reality layered over – and somehow, that feels normal.

So far, I know where I came from and a bit about my family – I know how I spent my childhood and teenage years. Before she started this project, I honestly didn’t have a clue, but every time she adds words to that document, they become real to me.  I’m both excited and terrified to see what my past-future holds!

A bit confusing, isn’t it? Well, confusion is something I’m very familiar, and even comfortable with. So, I really don’t mind being dragged along on this journey of self-discovery.

Since I seem to be her ‘muse’, or so she says, I have the notion to make my new website here sorta a hybrid, covering the realms where we cross over.  I’ll no doubt share a lot of news from my reality – the virtual world of Second Life, where I live, work and play.

But there’s hope that  the typist may share some of her thoughts on the art of writing here, too. And that’s okay, cause it affects me a lot, right?  I’ll get her to set up a category called “Writing” for those sorta posts.  We’d both welcome your attention and comments as we strive to finish this shared adventure.

Thanks as always for reading!

 

 

 

 

Social Networking Overdose

(this is something I posted in my livejournal this morning, and I thought I would put it here too, in hopes my Second Life friends might have a shot at try to understand my poor little brain.)

I love my friends, but I truly don’t need to hear about every tiny detail of their lives. In fact, being THAT privy to information has the unfortunate effect of making my mind spin in negative ways and start judging lifestyles based on small actions. “That’s three nights in a row she’s mentioned blowing off housework and eating cheetos. Is she a dirty messy glutton?” Building a composite picture of a friend through minuscule glimpses into their lives, without the balance of many factors they may not care to discuss in public, does not make for a true or fair picture of a person. NOT GOOD.

For fun, let’s add in the Stalker Paranoia Factor, which really ups the stress and self-confidence challenges of Social Networking . “How DARE BettySue Plurk that she had fun with SallyAnn last night after she ignored my IM to meet me for virtual drinks in Second Life?” Perceived slights are amplified – casual chatter is hyper-analyzed and turned into bitter bullets to fire back at a totally unsuspecting target. No, I’m not exaggerating, if anything I’ve downplayed the situation.

My last straw came the other day when Google decided on my behalf that I needed another social network, and thrust Buzz upon me. Without my permission or request, suddenly my email correspondents could comment on my chat away messages, and learn who my most frequently emailed contacts were. Luckily, I’m a boring person in gmail, but what if I’d had a daily email going with a counselor, or a porn site, or my Gambling Anonymous support buddy? (Small story on the Buzz Drop http://tiny.cc/4wZhV for those not aware.) Google has since retrofitted our accounts with the ability to turn Buzz off. Barn door and horse syndrome, but at least I could turn it off.

I could easily go on rants about Facebook, Twitter, the blogosphere and journaling world in general, but I won’t. I’ve never hidden my opinions on having too many of these places. Because I realize this is my PERSONAL opinion and while some of you might share it, not all do. We are all different in what we want and need.

Since Sunday, I’ve been on a self-declared ‘social holiday’ — not that my livejournal friends might notice (yes I am sporadic, I am a work in progress in getting back to my journaling.) This hiatus is applying to blogs, nings, Plurk, Second Life and a few other small social venues I habitually use.

Besides having a lot of lingering tasks and projects I wish to focus on and finish, I hit a point of information overload. Having a hundred friends tell me daily what they had for breakfast, through various channels, plus all the other minutiae of their daily lives, became cumulative. I started getting cranky, cynical, and snarky. Another side effect is that I became unable to focus on my OWN notions and creations. My writing slowed and became forced. The fantastical concepts I have been creating in Second Life ground to a halt, usually due to having a dozen IM windows open in-world, and the minuscule flotsam and jetsam of my friends daily life washed over me while I was trying to create.

So I’m stepping off the hamster wheel this week. I’m continuing to explore and create in Second Life, but I’ve blocked out 99% of contact with others. I’m re-focusing on WHY I am so drawn to the internet at large and to virtual realities. I’m listening to my own mind, without the influence of others. And so far, it’s been great. I’m remembering how to dream, explore, and create writings and virtual places that others can enjoy. (See, I’m not antisocial! My goals are almost always to impact others in positive ways).

(Prompted by a comment to the entry, I also added this:)

I was hoping not to be the only person on the internet that is easily info-overwhelmed. *hugs*

What I’m hoping for with this hermity-week I’m having, is to come back to my friends fresh, and be able to respond to them, and listen to them in a more positive way. Knowing that I AM susceptible helps me to be more responsible, too. Everyone needs to back off sometimes and catch their breath. I need it more than others, perhaps.

I think my writer-brain needs time to spin on it’s own, as well. I can TOTALLY identify with writers and artists of past generations who would go into hiding, or settle in some obscure village in order to find the peace they needed to create.

Ironically, a recent Second Life project was to write about the virtual recreation of the village of Giverny, France, where so many artists fled to find peace in the countryside. It spoke to me!

Happy…. Birthday….. Jim!

Wow. William Shatner is 78 years old today. And in honor of one of the most… eccentric speakers of our time, today has been declared International Talk Like William Shatner Day!

Today is another birthday as well, of the sort this Writer understands. It’s the rezzday of someone special. We have parted ways, so she won’t see this mention, but that doesn’t matter. I am sending her warm, nostalgic thoughts and wishes that her day in-world may bring her happiness, warmth, friendship and surprises.

Firsts

Ahnya tagged the Seraph Crew with a meme. And I’m a proud Serapher, so I will give in. ‘Sides, Ahnya is adorable and not to be denied!

(These are the RL typist’s Firsts. Not Ceejays. She would be totally perplexed by many of these questions, as she lives in the year 1881.)

Your Firsts

1. Who was your FIRST prom date?
Never went to a prom, ever in my life. Social outcast, I am.

2. Do you still talk to your FIRST love?
Nope. That would have been Bruce Brown, circa third grade. What a neat kid. Wonder how he turned out?

3. What was your FIRST alcoholic drink?
Spanada. Cheap crappy wine in a jug my dad used to buy. I decided one night to try some, got mildly crocked, and then my friends showed up to take me to the hospital to visit another friend. It was tricky to not act drunk while on that visit! I was really young, can’t recall exactly what age though.

4. What was your FIRST job?
Transportation coordinator at City of Hope Medical Center in California. Okay, I was a volunteer candy striper. But I LOVED it there, and for a full summer during high school, I worked 40 hours a week and had an actual responsible job. No pay, good memories, great lesson in work ethic. First actual PAYING job was making credit cards in Seattle. By hand. Typing the names and numbers, pushing each card into a tipping machine to gild the raised letters. VERY old school. Paid $1.30 an hour.

5. What was your FIRST car?
A 1947 Studebaker Land Cruiser in mint condition that my dad found for $50 at auction. Amazing car. Loved it.

6. Who was the FIRST person to text you today?
Text? That’s words written on a page to me, mister!

7. Who is the FIRST person you thought of this morning?
Anna, my co-worker, who is flying to Hawaii today for a family funeral.

8. Who was your FIRST grade teacher?
Mrs. Sullivan. She was neato.

9. Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane?
Big Bear, in the California mountains. My dad was flying, he was a private pilot and we’d hightail it up there on weekends now and then. Super fun. Even when he would stall the plane on purpose, and start hollering that we were out of gas just to freak me out. I have a wacky dad.

10. Who was your FIRST best friend and do you still talk?
Kathy, who I met in 3rd grade and was best friends with through high school. Sadly, no, we drifted apart as adults, though I do know where she ended up (breaking horses for a living) and who she married (an idiot, sadly)

11. Where was your FIRST sleep over?
Kathy’s house! We alternated weekends at each other’s houses for years!

12. Who was the FIRST person you talked to today?
Hmm. Thinking. Ah. Doctor Dixon, coming up the steps to my building at work. Mumbled g’mornings at each other.

13. Whose wedding were you in the FIRST time?
Sue’s. Big foofy wedding that I mocked. I was a bridesmaid and hated that violet dress! Ew.

14. What was the FIRST thing you did this morning?
Hit the snooze alarm and stole 9 extra minutes. I was up really late last night.

15. What was the FIRST concert you ever went to?
Blue Oyster Cult.

16. What was the FIRST record/tape?
Record: Three Dog Night’s first album. Shaddup.

17. FIRST hospitalization?
Tonsils out at age 8. Bring on that ice cream, woo hoo!

18. FIRST foreign country you’ve been to?
Mexico, followed by Canada. I have never left my home continent, alas.

19. FIRST movie you remember seeing?
Hmm. Jungle Book, maybe? Or was it Mary Poppins? One of those.

20. When was your FIRST detention?
6th grade. I was tearing pages out of a workbook I was supposed to be completing and throwing them away in some addled reasoning of ‘if I don’t have them I don’t have to do them.’ I had to spend my breaks working on the replacement pages.

21. Where did you FIRST meet your spouse/partner now?
On Prodigy, circa 1994. Northern Exposure forum.

22. Who was your FIRST roommate?
Lisa. Gawd, but we had fun. That was at the height of our wild-child party days. I was dating her brother, too. I really miss Lisa.

23. What did you do with your FIRST paycheck?
FED MYSELF! I was living on my own and hurting badly for munnies.

So I got tagged, did I? *checks butt for metal ID tag*

The ever-lovely Ahnya tagged me for a “16 things about me” meme. Buahahaha. What she didn’t know was that I was tagged for this in livejournal a while ago, so all I have to do is cut-and-paste! I win!

1. I’m left handed. Big deal. But I am so profoundly NOT right-handed that you might as well lop my right hand off. It can run a ten-key calculator and ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE.
2. My hair is 1920’s finger-wavy, all over. Except for one small strand that peers out from behind my left ear, it’s been straight since I was a child. When I get annoyed by it I cut it off behind my ear.
3. I have very high arches and petite feet. I think these are the most feminine part of my body. Sorry, boobies.
4. I had a failing thyroid but it fixed itself.
5. I sneeze uncontrollably and far too often.
6. I will never stop loving Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup.
7. I will do anything for a perfect, ripe avocado.
8. The German language soothes me. I listen to Munich talkradio at work.
9. I can’t pronounce ‘orange’ correctly.
10. My crush on Michael York never goes away.
11. Some words conjure odd sensations to me. The word ‘pregnant’ sounds squeaky, for example.
12. I turn cookies upside down to eat them.
13. I really like cheddar cheese to the point of absurdity.
14. I don’t have vertigo at all and love scary rides, but I am terrified by skydiving.
15. My first car was a 1948 Studebaker Land Cruiser in mint condition. Dad found it at an auction for $50.
16. I’ve played blackjack and drank brandy with Edward Van Halen.

Doh.

You know how in old slapstick comedy movies some poor doof will struggle with opening a squirty can of something or other, and you just KNOW it’s coming, and when he finally does spray himself right in the face, it’s funny as heck!

I just did that with Crisco Butter Flavored Cooking Spray.

Twice.

Wearing glasses.

Please proceed to be mirthful, and Happy Thanksgiving!