Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Don't Get Me Started

I'm back from New York City. It was hot, it was crowded, it was delicious and I hated to leave. Pictures and story tomorrow. Try, until then, to go on about your little lives as best you can.

La Meme Chose

This is for Rabbitch, who tagged me. Don't get any ideas - I'm doing this because 1) she has made me laugh out loud so many times that I feel I owe her one and 2) it gives me the chance to say I'm hereby declaring myself untaggable henceforth in perpetuum.

I'm supposed to list five of my idiosyncracies. This is not difficult, except in picking only five examples from a catalogue that would rival that of Sears-Roebuck and Company.
  1. I am often a very dim bulb. I have more than once run around the house searching for keys I was holding in my other hand, or the hat that was already on top of my head.

  2. I sometimes prefer to do things the hard way. When I decided to knit a sock for the first time, I also decided to work from Mary Thomas's highly detailed but mainly theoretical treatment of the subject instead of finding an easy, modern pattern. (See also "Tendencies, masochistic".)

  3. As a snack, I often eat peanut butter right out of the jar with a butterknife. I prefer crunchy. And it has to be with a knife. I never use a spoon. That would be weird.

  4. I am uneasy sitting in restaurants or caf├ęs with my back to the doors or windows. This is probably genetic programming from my Sicilian side.

  5. I am scared to death of flying. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. You can quote me statistics, philosophy, religion, or aerodynamics, it won't help. I hate flying so much I don't even like to talk about it when I'm on the ground. (On Friday, when our plane to New York hit a thunderstorm just before landing at La Guardia and started to pitch around, C got a chance to see me in full panic mode. He let me hold his hand and kept talking to me the whole time, which has earned him...I dunno yet, but something big.)
And by the way, why the hell are they called "memes"?

18 comments:

Kim in Oregon said...

Meme comes from memory, and it means information passed from one mind to another. So I guess it means, sort of, sharing your memory. Very Harry Potterish.

IRV said...

Yes, pls tell us why the hell are they called "memes"? This has always made me a bit nuts too. Glad you had a good time in NY. I get there once a month or so for theatre & of course all the LYSs. I also go to an old time barber shop for a complete shave from the neck up-only $20 bucks-Boris is the best! Next time you go maybe I can meet you for a day of yarn stores & some S&B. If you ain't been to HABU, OMG!!!!!!

goblinbox said...

They shouldn't be called memes: google: define: meme. The name "meme" for these things is more of a meme than the things themselves.

Ah, language evolving before our very eyes! I love it!

(I'm going to New York next month. I'm so excited I can barely stand myself. Reading your post made me glad I'm not afraid to fly.)

markknitz said...

oh, man! sorry i missed you. i hope you had a good time and got to see lots of LYS'. i was resuming my career as hostess with the mostest (read: throwing a housewarming party and freaking out about it) Can't wait to read about your visit.

Cheryl said...

See I thought hunting the keys while they are in your hand, etc., was just a male trait..

JoVE said...

C. is one great guy. Hang on to him. I don't mind flying at all but anyone who can both cope with your panic and hold hands and talk you through it is worth quite a lot.

Steven said...

Can I borrow him for a flight across country? I promise you can have him right back.
--long time reader, first time commenter

Rabbitch said...

Thanks for doing it -- didn't know if you would or not (and wouldn't have been offended had you declined).

Oh dog, now I have to be funny in perpetuity ...

Anonymous said...

I thought it meant Me!Me! Nah, not really.
/Monika

Leslie said...

Talk about "dim bulb" <----

I thought you were asking why it's called the "screaming me-me"s (another name for scared *hitless kvetching & wailing when the plane hits turbulence). Who knows the etomology of things French???

Dhi said...

Hmmm...have you ever done a past life regression? I wonder if you were whacked in a previous life.

I, too, "suffer" from this tendency. (Can one suffer from a seemingly redisposed "tendency"?), but I thought it had to do with being a cops' daughter, and therefore just absorbing my father's cynicism and wariness. I actually changed my hairstyle so I could see out of the corner of my eye, as my desk almost faces away from the door as I sit currently. Weirdo. I know.

Duh Dhi said...

**that was "predisposed" for heavens' sake. Sorry.

Barb B. said...

I cope with flying by pretending I'm on a greyhound bus. This works really well till some idiot tells you to look out the window. Booze helps on a short trip if you have someone to look after you since you're almost too drunk to walk.
I've always thought my desire to sit with my back to the wall was from reading all those cowboy books when I was kid.
Barb B.

Sahara said...

I hope you and C enjoyed hot, crowded NYC. I can't wait for your report!

And no, Franklin, you don't have to buy either the Pringle, or the Victor and Rolf, as I will be happy to knock them off. All I need are your measurements, and a fairly large (8"x 8" including ribbing) swatch, and we're good to go. For the pringle, I'd suggest making a swatch with a large diamond in the middle so I can work with your intarsia gauge.

Jon said...

Thank gawd you're back. I need support.

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