Tuesday, November 14, 2006

I loves me a meme

Susoz kindly posted a link to this marathon meme over at Elsewhere's and I have pinched it without compunction or delay, and edited it so it's not sixteen pages long. I know of no more satisfying avoidance behaviour than a good meme, especially in thesis-examining season. NB I began this meme last night, which explains the discrepancies in the timing.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
'How tragic that my hair looks better when it hasn't been washed.'

2. Favorite planet?
I've always fancied Venus, which is my ruling planet. Also Saturn for the rings and the breathtaking beauty, and for its part in a visualisation exercise I made up once to try to stay sane when I was doing two fulltime jobs at once. What you do is picture yourself as the planet itself, and all the things you have to do and remember are sitting on the ring as on a conveyer belt, slowly revolving around you. It means you keep sight of everything and never forget or lose track of anything, but at the same time you are kept separate from everything by the space between you and the ring and therefore none of the things going past on the belt can get to you and overwhelm you. Works like a charm.

3. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
Some landline number in Sydney that I don't recognise. I just hope it wasn't someone head-hunting me for a $200K pa job, with no boss, and an office with water views.

4. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
The one that goes 'ring ring ... ring ring ... ring ring...'

5. Do you “label” yourself?
Except to say that I'm a proud recovering smoker, which nobody who knew me earlier than 1989 would ever have believed possible, no. But I occasionally libel myself.

6. What does your watch look like?
Very small, rectangular and pewter-coloured -- almost a pale lavender-silvery colour -- with very simple numbers. I love my watch. It's beautiful without pretending to be expensive.

7. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Watching Muriel's Wedding, for the umpteenth time, on the teeve.

8. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
'Lovely, wasn't it?' From my friend R, about 'Stepfather of the Bride' on ABC TV last night.

9. What's a word that you say a lot?

10. Last furry thing you touched?
Madam, the bolder of the two cats, who is sitting at my right hand, about three seconds ago.

11. Favorite age you have been so far?
Thirty-three. The career was established, the possibilities were endless, and I had not yet begun to get seriously ground down. I also enjoyed 45, which was my first year of self-employed, home-owning freedom, and four to seven, after I'd learned to read but before it had begun to dawn on me that I was a girl.

12. Your worst enemy?
Myself, always.

13. What is your current desktop picture?
A misty-lavender photograph of Florence that I took in 1983.
UPDATE: Why didn't I just do this in the first place? Der.

14. What was the last thing you said to someone?
'Finish your supper, sweetheart' (to the timid cat).

15. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
Oh oh oh ... fly, of course.

16. Do you like someone?
Is this a 'crush' question? If so, no. I'm too old and tired.

17. The last song you listened to?
Either Richard Bonynge conducting Heather Begg, Glenys Fowles and the MSO on the Flower Duet from Lakmé or Tex Perkins singing 'You're 39, You're Beautiful and You're Mine' from Tex, Don and Charlie's All is Forgiven. Can't remember which.

18. What time of day were you born?
9.10 pm. I gather that's why I peak at that hour of the day.

19. Whats your favorite number?
Five. No idea why.

20. Where did you live in 1987?
In one quarter of a double-fronted shabby-elegant late-Victorian terrace house in Brunswick, Victoria, just off Sydney Road.

21. Are you jealous of anyone?

22. Is anyone jealous of you?
I have no idea. Are we making a distinction between 'jealous' and 'envious' here?

23. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
At home, having an extraordinarily unpleasant, surprising and upsetting telephone conversation with a male psychotherapist I'd consulted in desperation about violent mystery headaches and who was, unbelievably, hitting on me. 9/11 felt like some kind of insane objective correlative.

24. Do you consider yourself kind?
Not by nature, but I try extraordinarily hard. Maybe too hard.

25. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?
Hmm, I kind of fancy a tramp stamp. That or the ankle. I don't like tatts on women's arms. (Or at all, really.)

26. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
French. Or maybe Italian. If I had any brains, Indonesian and Arabic.

27. Would you move for the person you loved?
Yes. But not unconditionally.

28. What's your life motto?
'This is not about you.' (Meaning me.) I also like 'This too will pass', 'Stay calm', and 'When in doubt, wash.' (Cat literature reference, Paul Gallico's Jennie)

29. What's your favorite town/city?
Sydney. Vienna. Florence. Paris. Edinburgh. Brisbane. Ballarat, Arcadia Vale on Lake Macquarie in NSW, my SA home town of Curramulka, San Gimignano, Burra in SA, Cambridge, the ghost town of Inneston at the toe of Yorke Peninsula ... Sorry, what was the question?

30. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
On my friend Peter's mother Elsie's 80th birthday.

31. Can you change the oil on a car?
No, but I can check it. And I could change a tyre if I absolutely had to. I'm better at changing girl things, like my clothes and my sheets and my mind.

32. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?
I saw him a few months ago and his health is terrible, but he seemed cheerful enough. And yes, the buzz is still there, and we're talking about people in their 50s here. I don't know why I find this reassuring, but I do.

33. How far back do you know about your ancestry?
On one side, some Cornish Goldsworthys in the 1600s; on the other, the two First Fleeters: Jane Langley, convict, and Thomas Chipp, Marine, who were my seven-greats grandparents.

34. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?
I wore a dark figured velvet coat over a new sleeveless black top with a sort of scooped shawl neck, black pants, suede boots, much more makeup than usual, Chanel No. 5, silver earrings and my silver teardrop necklace from Tiffany's. Opera, opening night.

35. Have you been burned by love?
I don't think the word 'burned' quite covers it.


Kate said...

I'm on deadline for a story so I might steal this meme in aid of procrastination.

Bernice said...

Damn good post (as was the Atwood review in Saturday's Herald) - works as an EMO-PAV for me. Particularly amused by the response to the crush question. But you gave up smoking?!!! Successfully?!! without whispering sweet nothings to wafting plumes of second hand smoke in pubs?!!

Pavlov's Cat said...

Oh Bernice, that's nice. I was thinking I'd been a tad self-indulgent (just a tad, like) so I'm glad somebody else enjoyed reading it.

The Atwood is a terrific book.

Having smoked since I was 17, I tried to give up twice -- first in 1983, for 13 months, and then again in 1989 for, I fervently hope, ever. Cold turkey both times; if there's one thing I do love, it's an absolute.

Zoe said...

I liked the Atwood review too, and the meme as well.

I think you're very virtuous for doing the flying thing though. I think I'd take the dough.

Laura said...

What is a tramp stamp?

Suse said...

I just have to say thank you for that Saturn image.

And I loved the book Jennie. I think I can still quote whole paras of it, all these years later.

Zoe said...

Miss Laura, your question answered by our friend Wikipedia here. I must confess to preferring the other name for them, "arse antlers".

Kate said...

Ooh arse antlers. Heh. I have learnt so much from blogging.

Perry Middlemiss said...

I find it odd that I have visited all of your non-Australian favorite towns/cities but not all the Australian ones. I'm certain I must have driven through your hometown of Curramulka - my father had a cousin who lived in Minlaton. There is the chance that we went though Maitland so may have missed you.

I've often thought the verb in question 35 should "eviscerated". That gets close, but leaves out the application of pepper. The French probably have a word for it.

Ampersand Duck said...

Beautifully done. I'm with Kate and shamelessly stealing it. I need the distraction.

comicstriphero said...

'This too will pass' has gotten me through some mighty tough times.

It really does it for me.

And if you think of it when times are good, you'll appreciate them all the more.

Pavlov's Cat said...

I find 'This, too, shall pass' particularly useful when having some horrid medical procedure or other, and it also regularly gets me through unbearable multiple deadline pressures, as well as graver griefs.

Perry, Curramulka was virtually killed -- certainly rendered invisible -- by the upgraded highway from Ardrossan to Minlaton that bypasses it. Who was the Minlaton cousin? S/he probably taught my sister at Minlaton High in 1965.

'Eviscerated' made me think of Paul Simon:
'And she said "Losing love is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you're blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow"

elsewhere said...

Now where are teh other fifteen questions?

Bernice said...

'Eviscerated" makes me think of leaping out of a car in a Mosman carpark, where I shoved the door upon the parts of a chap who yelled "oh you have emasculated me". It was oddly difficult to feel all due sympathy. I just thought i should share that.

Perry Middlemiss said...

Sorry about the delay in writing about my father's cousin - I had to check some facts. He lived in Maitland after all not Minlaton - a farmer by the name of Carmichael.