Attack of the killer meme

Via the lovely and talented Miss Lori at Do You Realize?? …I've seen this meme in a couple other places but not played yet. So tally-ho, yo, here we go.

  1. What was I doing ten years ago?
    Oh-ho, this is a funny one. Ten years ago, I was working at Santa Cruz Biotechnology as, I believe, a publications assistant, soon to be inadvertently promoted to publications manager. I was studying Latin in an offhand lackadaisical manner that resulted in little or no actual Latin retention and thinking about applying to grad school. But first, Jim and I had a Big Plan! We were going to go to Europe and spend a year zooming hither and yon on BMW R50/5 motorcycles (the cutest motorcycle ever known to wo/mankind). Then, sometime in August 1998, I believe, I discovered that I was well and truly knocked up. And the rest is history.
  2. What are five things on my to-do list for today?
    1. Mop the floor. It's grody. 2. Remove the pile of magazines currently reposing on my desk and stuff them into the nearest magazine holder. I've been putting off this task for, oh, about three days now. 3. Write a post for my latent Organized Freelancing blog (see how organized I am?) about what can be accomplished in two minutes. 4. Figure out where one can go of a Tuesday night to play Rock Band, which I played for the first time ever for about five minutes today and by which I was immediately hooked. 5. Clean the bathroom. It's grody.
  3. Snacks I enjoy:
    Stilton, of course, preferably with a wee stack of sesame crackers… and, because I am a woman of elevated and sophisticated tastes, Frosted Mini-Wheats.
  4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
    First off: quit whatever godforsaken soul-sucking career I had been pursuing to get myself into the position of being a billionaire in the first place, and maybe apologize to the people I'm sure I would've stomped all over on my way to the top. Second off: buy a beautiful bungalow in the Forest Park area (this one would do nicely), set up a Gypsy vardo in the back for a writing office and get down to the business of giving away serious money. Parents and sibs first, of course; then I would write hefty checks to Doctors Without Borders and Plan International (which we already support, and you should too). Then I would see if Bill and/or Melinda Gates would take the time to meet with me and talk about how to give money so that it does the greatest good and produces measurable results; my favorite causes are refugee and disaster relief, women's rights in developing countries, science education and environmental protection. Maybe I could make a dent…
  5. Three of my bad habits:
    I take everything personally. I procrastinate. I yell at my children, early and often. Don't I sound like a peach?
  6. Five places I have lived:
    1. A mobile home in Mendota, California; the first place I can remember living. There was a smoke alarm that went off every time my mom made tacos.
    2. A triplex in Stockton, California; we lived there for five years, I think, before my parents bought the house they still live in. I remember it being a nice place to live. Jim and I drove through the neighborhood a few years ago and were shocked to see that it had deteriorated into a full-on slum… graffiti scrawled on the garage doors, wheel-less cars up on blocks in the driveways, knots of sullen-looking young men hanging around in the front yards drinking beer.
    3. The house in Stockton my parents have lived in for about twenty-five (?!) years. When we moved in, there was brown floral wallpaper on nearly every wall, much of it pasted on upside-down. There was a tatty brown carpet that smelled funny, and which lingered on the stairs and in Hannah's and my upstairs room long after it had been ripped out of the rest of the house. (The upside of this carpet: it had a seam that divided our room conveniently in half, allowing us to assert our personal spaces without the nuisance of actually having separate rooms.) Now, especially in the last couple of years, it's been transformed; my mom really has an eye for color, texture and unconventional but happy combinations. And their gardens, both front and back, have gone from standard-issue suburban lawn to something very like spectacular. Maybe Jim and I can do that with our house someday, if we ever have another house, and if the kids ever move out. (Rhys says he isn't going anywhere.)
    4. The sweet little bungalow on Branciforte Avenue in Santa Cruz where Jim and I lived with Hannah and, for a while, our poor misunderstood housemate Corin ("Mayonnaise Boy"). The floor sloped dramatically, the kitchen was a horror and the back third of the house was literally held on with duct tape. But I still remember it–and the parties we used to have there, usually at least once a week–more fondly than I do any other place I've lived.
    5. Our house in Grand Junction, which I credit Jim with turning from a nice but boring rancher into a really kinda hip and mod place to hang out. The rooms flowed into one another beautifully; the house lived much larger than it really was. The screened porch in the back (which was not a screened porch until Jim got his handy hands on it) and the beautifully tiled kitchen (with a stove that was a huge butt-pain to clean but which I miss more every time I cook on the stove we have now) were just the epitome of '50s-era Sunset-magazine living.
  7. Five jobs I have had:
    Best job: working the weekday opening shift at the Blackwater Cafe in Stockton. Most fun coworkers: tied between the coffee cart (which I "managed," ha ha) at Peabody's on the UCSC campus and the publications department at SCBT. Best bosses: admissions department at UC Davis. Shortest tenure: the old-lady department at Campbell's Department Store in Stockton (I think I lasted just over a week).
  8. How did I name my blog?
    pic·a·yune  

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    adjective Also, pic·a·yun·ish. Informal.

    1. of little value or account; small; trifling: a picayune amount.
    2. petty, carping, or prejudiced: I didn't want to seem picayune by criticizing.
    3. Informal. an insignificant person or thing.

    dem·o·crat  

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    –noun

    1. an advocate of democracy.
    2. a person who believes in the political or social equality of all people.
    3. (initial capital letter) Politics.

    a. a member of the Democratic party.
    b. a member of the Democratic-Republican party.

And by means of tagging, which I am bad at:

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About Molly Newman

Writer, cook and trivia/spelling bee hostess, living it up in North Portland.
This entry was posted in Memes. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Attack of the killer meme

  1. Herm says:

    OMG. I’d forgotten about Campbell’s. Very, very funny.

  2. azureavian says:

    umm yeah, will try to do this tomorrow, because while tomorrow will be the country of SANE with myself and family firmly INside of it, at least it will give me ready answers for question number two and possibly four.

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