Today's Blathering is for
Wordgoddess. Assignment: To write a post in which each paragraph begins with "I...".
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I am not a chocolate snob. I like all kinds of chocolate: dark, white, milk, baking. Especially chocolate with raspberry or other fruit flavours.
I had a pet hermit crab named Martha when I was a teenager. Very dull. It took me two weeks before I finally noticed she was dead.
I'm learning German. I hate dative verbs.
I co-wrote a song about
Sex and Chocolate. You can listen to a soundclip
here. That's my music partner
Jodi singing lead, not me.
I hate it when people behind me kick my chair in a movie theatre.
I have a
subclinical detached retina.
I
wrote a book.
I have always hated public speaking, to the point where I avoided courses in university that had spoken presentations as part of the curriculum. When I got involved with
Inkspot, I started forcing myself to do interviews, workshops, other talks because I was so excited about the project and wanted other people to get excited, too. It was good for me, but I still hate public speaking.
I'm allergic to cats.
I sold my Web site to a U.S. company in June/2000 and moved to Philadelphia for six months as an employee, without my husband. After the Internet craze meltdown, Jeff and I spent a great deal of time at the cottage during our sabbatical and during that time, I realized that my entire experience in the corporate world could be compared in many ways to stacking firewood.
Here's my Woodpile Philosophy.
I never went out on a date until university. I didn't go to my high school prom because I didn't want to spend the entire time standing awkwardly on the sidelines while all the other girls got asked for a dance except for me. No, it didn't even cross my mind back then that I didn't have to wait, that -I- could ask guys to dance. I've smartened up since then.
I like food movies.
I used to have recurring dream in which I'm standing in a sunny field of tall grass with
my brother. He's smiling at me, and the sun is in his hair. When I wake from the dream, there are tears on my face.
I've been a
a cover story.
I wore pink horn-rimmed glasses when I was little. I chose them myself. What was I thinking???
I once got a
marriage proposal from a total stranger in e-mail. I declined.
I cry during sappy television commercials.
I like living in Toronto.
I
went on a canoe trip in the Nahanni. It remains my all-time favourite trip.
I used to like writing songs with the words/phrases "puke" or "pert breasts" for my music partners to sing because it amused me. Now I don't, because I know they'll make
me sing lead.
I taught piano for over twenty years, sometimes part-time, sometimes fulltime. I play piano, flute, penny whistle, Celtic harp, guitar, assorted bangy percussion things...with varying degrees of ability.
I sometimes get frustrated and depressed about my tendinitis, which has lasted a year and a half so far, not being able to type normally for longer than 20 minutes at a time before it starts hurting. Sometimes it's hard to stay cheery and optimistic.
I miss playing my harp.
I like skinnydipping in the lake at the cottage.
I have an
autobiographical comic strip.
I like reading in the bathtub.
I tried reading Lord of the Rings a few years ago
and actually liked it this time. Enough to start
a comic strip and
write a song about the experience. I blame
Allison.
I'm a morning person.
I still think Captain Kirk was the best Star Trek captain.
I know, I'm a nerd.
I am drawn to people with a strong creative streak, who are passionate about life.
I love backrubs. Foot rubs. Hand rubs. The Sutherland Chan Clinic is my favourite massage place. I usually go about two or three times a year as a special treat, using birthday money from my mom-in-law. I still have 30 minutes left from my last birthday gift and have the gift certificate tacked up on my bulletin board. I like looking at it and knowing that I can use it anytime I want.
I don't like getting backrubs / foot rubs / hand rubs from people I don't know very well unless they're Trained Professionals.
I love the smell of fresh basil, cinnamon and clean babies.
I want to go to Paris someday.
I used to hate it when people told me I look like my mother. Now I'm glad.
I think about dying. Sometimes I think I understand how it could be a peaceful and welcome thing for the very old or very weary, like getting into bed after a long and gruelling day. Most of the time, though, I feel panic at the idea of dying. There's too much to do, to see. People I love. I don't want to miss out on any of it.
I like compartmentalized food.
Yes, that's ice on the lake.
Wednesday, September 8, 2004 at 11:58AM 
