1. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.
2. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.
3. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been
I’m not really sure how that second rule fits into the schema (maybe it would work better as #3? maybe it should be rephrased as "…should post these rules along with their 8 random facts? maybe I should just give up on writing and become a copyeditor, since I seem to love nitpicking so much?), but there you have it. And here we have these:
I. My new favorite place in the world is my "desk" upstairs in my "office." It’s an L-shape of laminate countertop mounted to the wall, and it’s where I sit at my computer and look out a little square window through which I can see trees and the neighbors’ rooftops and the occasional frolicking squirrel, and hear the traffic and home-improvement noises from the street below. The fresh Portland air rushes in and keeps me cool, and I feel peaceful and content. (Note that, however, all this peaceful contentedness has not translated into a single new word added to The Book.)
II. I am fascinated by tiny, delicate little things. Especially dollhouses and the perfect little miniatures that fill them–a half-inch-high wineglass, how cunning is that? But I’m left cold by the prevailing Victorian aesthetic of the dollhouse world and would love to start a company that makes modernist dollhouses and darling little Eames chairs and metal-and-glass bookshelves and concrete countertops and wee little copies of Dwell magazine to fill them.
III. When I’m temporarily stuck for words while writing, I type "vootie" as a placeholder. This nonword is gleaned from an old issue of Groo, wherein Groo ventures into the jungle and passes underneath a monkey and the monkey says "Vootie." With the period. (My mom also once had a student named Vuthy Y; Vuthy was pronounced "vootie." My brother, sister and I were highly taken with this name and used to ask each other, "Y, Vuthy, Y?"
IV. I sit crosslegged in my desk chair. And in most chairs. Sometimes I get odd looks while doing this in restaurants. But what am I supposed to do? It’s a habit, and habit excuses one from responsibility.
(Sadly, that’s 32, not 23. But perhaps not that sadly, because that would have made me frighteningly youthful when my eight-year-old was born.) I had an absolutely lovely birthday, highlights of which included: having every member of my immediate family (parents, sis, bro) call and sing to me; receiving all kinds of darling clothing PLUS a gift certificate to our local nursery and another to Powell’s (and an adorable sparkly dragonfly necklace from the inestimable Miss Zara, which I am wearing right now); having a fab lunch at Papa Haydn and a delicious dinner at India House; and having both Fisher and Rhys draw comics starring me as Super Mama. (According to Fisher, my super-power is apparently driving like a crazy person and yelling out at drivers with Texas plates.)
VI. Driving like a crazy person and yelling at drivers with Texas plates is my real-life super-power. But if I could choose a different (better) one, I’d choose the ability to turn ethereal and back again. No door would be closed to me! I could read all the files at the NSA (and add/subtract things, which would be the really fun part). I could visit museums and libraries in the middle of the night and have them allllll to myself. (Would I climb up the T. rex skeleton at the Field Museum? You bet your bippy I would. But semi-ethereally, so as not to damage anything.)
VII. I’ve visited twenty-one states, I think, and lived in three. I’ve been to three foreign countries and lived in zero.
VIII. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to do my best to have a "Science Friday" feature, wherein I will blog about something interesting in the world o’ science and/or science as it relates to homeschooling. (Shouldn’t be too hard. Really, everything relates to homeschooling if you look at it for a couple seconds.)
And now the part where I become a party pooper… I don’t know who has or hasn’t received this meme already, so I’m not tagging anyone. But as always, please, if you feel inspired to play, please do so and let me know. (Summer? Melissa Ives? Bueller? Bueller?)
(Also: my dad e-mailed me a couple days ago about my Sticker shock post. I got his permission to go ahead and post his comment here in its entirety because I felt like he really got what I was trying to say. We made a connection, man.)