And, seriously. I spent *plenty* of time whining about my illness this week anyway, don't you think? It was probably karma's way of stifling at least some of my moaning, by making me wait for times when I could borrow Willem's computer. Otherwise I would have gotten really annoying. More so than I was. Shut up, it would TOO be possible.
So yesterday, I was finally well enough to make some phone calls - we needed a plumber because somehow the drain-toggle thing had snapped out of the tub, and an appointment for Willem's Jeep to stop self-destructing, and other ways in which my house and belongings were slowly crumbling to little pieces around me. And I called Gateway, at about 3:00 in the afternoon, to mumble about "something spilled" and "keys not working" and "please help." And today - at 2:00, less than 24 hours later - FedEx showed up at my door with a package containing a brand-new laptop keyboard and instructions on how to switch 'em. For free.
Yeah, so, I loves me my Gateway.
And the timing is perfect, too, because I opened myself to the cruelties of Wordnerd and invited her to interview me, and that happened in the comments sometime today. Granted, she was gentle with me and didn't ask anything TOO scary, but she could've. And without my keyboard, earlier, I was able to read her questions and mentally answer them, but I don't think a whole ton of you out there in cyberspace are completely clairvoyant (and that's probably a good thing, there's enough going on in my head already without spectators), so now I can actually share my answers.
And there was much rejoicing.
So, the way this works, as far as I can figure, is that I answer my interview questions, and then I open it up to the comments - the general rule is that people can request to be interviewed there, but from what I'm seeing, there's not an outpouring of interest here. Fine. Be that way.
So, you can still feel free to ask questions in the comments; I'm percolating on them and will reply when I can gather both of my surviving non-diseased brain cells and bang them together to form coherent thoughts. Mostly because I'm curious, what can I possibly not have told about myself here so far??
So, anyway... from the fertile mind of Wordnerd:
1.Your Ipod has malfunctioned, and now it will only play five songs. You’re on a long road trip. What five songs can you listen to without ever getting tired of them?
Well, hmm. This is not as hard as it might be for, say, my husband, because I'm very prone to having comfort music and listening to the same few songs over and over anyway. More than five, but I have two playlists of about 30 songs each that I select almost every time I'm in the car, with reckless disregard for the other 1300-odd songs on the iPod. So it's a matter of choosing from them...
- Regarding Steven by Blues Traveler
- Grey Street by Dave Matthews Band
- Anna Begins by Counting Crows
- It's Alright, It's Ok by Leah Andreone
- Man in the Box by Alice in Chains
That was harder than I'd thought, only because choosing between my songs is in the same vein as choosing between my children. If I could instead put in a vote for a single Genre on my iPod... I collect acoustic versions of all sorts of songs, and have things ranging from '80s hair metal to Alanis Morissette's version of My Humps in there. Pretty please?
2.Favorite. Movie. Ever. (That’s a question!)
Pride & Prejudice, the A&E version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. It's about 15 hours long and as true to the book as I have any right to hope for. My sister Sarah bought it for me for Christmas 2005, and I've (only) watched it about four times since then. It's my version of comfort food.
This would've been a lot harder if I'd had to name, say, my top five. Because there's this one, hanging out above all the rest, and then about 15 crammed into the #2 spot.
3.What are some of your guilty pleasures?
Ooh, is this, like, confession? I offload the guilt and then can continue doing the pleasurable things without feeling bad? Hah.
I don't actually feel guilt very often in my life. This probably has more to do with being raised to have a fair amount of self-confidence than because I'm innately perfect, but I'll accept either reason. Either way, while I don't feel guilty, I do have things that I don't brag about. Like, I read People magazine cover-to-cover every single weekend. In the bathroom, perched on the side of the tub, with the door closed so as not to be interrupted, a few pages at a time. And, every time I make buttermilk waffles, I deliberately leave too little batter in the bowl for a complete final waffle so that I can eat it raw. And if Fox ever decided to start a new season - or, hell, reruns of the old seasons - of Temptation Island, I would both DVR it and watch it live, with my phone unplugged.
4.Define happiness – for you.
Happiness is being able to do a mental count of all of my loved ones and not being able to come up with a crisis or ongoing struggle for any one of them. Happiness is being able to drink a chocolate banana milkshake without whimpering because it hurts my throat. Happiness is waking up to the snuggly and sleep-warm body of my son crawling into bed, and bantering with my daughter just like she's a real person instead of just a kid, and the long-car-ride talks with my husband. Happiness is finishing a knitted item and getting a final result that's at least somewhat like the initial vision, writing a post and getting more than ten comments, and eating chewy gooeys.
5.What scares you?
The thought of harm to my children. And I have a very, very active imagination, so when I let myself go too far, I can come up with any number of realistic and imminent threats. I also get scared if I stay up too late, alone - I get jumpy, and become convinced that if I look out the window I will see a face looking back in at me. The sheer size of my student loan balance scares me. Guns scare me.
Viola! More than you ever thought you'd want to know, and now that information is crammed into your head forever. BWAH-ha-ha....
