The Belated Meme

[That title satisfies me in an Edward Gorey sort of way. We'll see how far I get before I have to go get ready for work...]

[1. When you were born, how much did you weigh?
Somewhere between six and seven pounds. When I first read this meme over on Kusala, I resolved to rush home to check my birth certificate to see, because I couldn't remember. Lo, the State of California didn't require that data on Certificates of Live Birth in June of 1969. I can tell you my parents' address at the time, and the address of the hospital if you want. No? OK.]

[2. What's your sugar poison?
One of a couple of key harmful habits I've given up this year is high-fructose corn syrup. Yes, I have been part of That America, the kind that slurps down Big Gulps of pure poison with impunity. My day wasn't complete unless it had one Pepsi or Dr. Pepper in it, usually a 20-oz. bottle at about 11 A.M. No longer! Now, if I must, I go the diet soda route, but I sense this is a temporary step on the road to soda pop abolition. Now, though? Pure cane sugar in my coffee is still a part of my life, and from what I can taste, I don't see myself getting on the Splenda bandwagon anytime soon.]

[3. If you had to choose between meat and cheese for the rest of your life, which would you choose? Then be specific.
I'll plunge and say this is even more difficult than the deaf-blind question. I mean, imagine life without the succulent slabs of moist chicken breast in the soup that practically saved my life Sunday before last. Imagine no more pork roast, salami sandwiches, or breakfast hash made with fresh corned beef like I had in Portland.]

[Imagine that, then weep, because I choose to keep cheese. While I have often considered giving up meat for a time, at least, and respect my friends who have done so, I consider cheese and think back just a couple of days to a walk along Polk Street with Sean. We'd just gone over to feed the Cat Hedwick, from whose presence I've officially fled because of the allergies, and went by that one gourmet food shop at Polk and Broadway. A certain rich, rotting smell drew us in, and I surrendered, saying to Sean, "as long as I don't buy too much."]

[The devil just looked at me, and repeated something he first said to me in 1991 as we made our first lasagna together with Jessica, and which has been a talismanic phrase for the three of us ever since: "There's no such thing as too much cheese." Amen.]

[4. What, in your opinion, is the worst song ever?
Hmm. Difficult. I find myself not "hating" songs as much as I used to. It's possible that training in the '90s, first by Rafe and then by John, has made me much more tolerant of those strains of popular music that used to draw strong and snobby protests from me. Before that (mis)education, I would have answered without hesitation "More Than Words," a rock ballad from around 1990 by one-hit wonders Extreme. The final chord used to make me scream and throw things.]

[I still think it's pretty bad, but I will admit that a few months ago I was caught off guard at the South of Market Trader Joe's. I was minding my own business, indulging in a little light cruising for Kalamata olives and dick, when I found myself humming some song that was coming over the loudspeaker. What it was didn't register until almost that fateful, painful chord was about to strike, and I gave a little gasp. So maybe on some level it's not that bad.]

[But "Under The Bridge" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers? Unforgiveable.]

[5. Who was your favorite teacher growing up and why?
That would've been Ms. Astrid Sinclair, English teacher extraordinaire in both 10th and 12th grades. All the bad intellectual qualities people attribute to me (snobbery, cyncism, sarcasm, even laziness, since she let me get away with so much on my term papers) and maybe some good ones, I can lay at least in part to her nurturing superciliousness. The woman was my only teacher who refused to say "under God" during the Pledge of Allegiance. We loved her.]

[6. What personal activity, when performed in public, bothers you the most?
Really, anything noise-based that disrupts the peace. Ring tones are earning my particular ire right now, but loud conversation, nail care, car alarms, honking horns, music (even from iPods whose volume is tuned sufficiently high)... the world is getting noisier, and I think we should all do what we can not to be part of the problem.]

[7. Ok, there's a $50 bill lying on the ground. You pick it up. Dumbfounded by your incredible luck, what do you selfishly purchase?
See the gourmet food shop passage above. I really don't care about clothes, gadgets, or any of that stuff. But set me loose in one of those foodie shops, and watch the money melt away like the Arctic ice cap.]

[8. Do you have a recurring nightmare? If so, explain.
I had it again just last night, or a variation on the one I'm always having. I'm back in school, and am being kept from getting to class on what's always a vital day. Either I'm stuck in traffic, or up a tree, or engaging in some bad behavior, but I always know: I"m supposed to be in class, and it's REALLY BAD that I'm not there yet. I often get there near the end of the dream, and there's always some weird quirk, like the classroom's been transformed into the Globe Theatre, or I'm in a class with people all twenty years younger than I am, or no one's there and I've really blown it.]

[9. Name one place on Earth you've never been, but vow to visit at least once.
At the risk of sounding...what? I don't know, but at the risk of it, I'm going to say that the idea of travel is actually becoming less alluring for me. It's not that I don't feel like that it would be fun and inneresting and broadening and all that, but there's something about the mania for seeing exotic places and doing exotic things with exotic people that seems a bit... pretentious? Shallow? Escapist? Those aren't the right word, but lately I've been thinking that it might do us all a lot of good if we stayed where we were more often, to see the weird, wonderful stuff that's right in front of our faces that we never take the time to notice, and to understand that the New isn't always Better.]

[Also, traveling by air has become such an unpleasant process that the idea of jetting off to Paris or Buenos Aires or Kathmandu (to pick three that have intrigued me) doesn't do it for me as much as it might once have done. It occasionally occurs to me that our dear government is actually making it more difficult for us to travel as part of its plan to create and maintain a more ignorant populace, interested only in consuming at home and not asking questions about what we're doing abroad.]

[10. You notice that question #9 wasn't really a question. You feel smart for catching such a small detail. What else can you do really well that reminds you how smart you are?
Ah, jeez. I have my little ego areas, you know I do. Anyone reading this, especially if you know me in person, knows that my vanity depends in large part in feeling respected about what I believe are my gifts. Do I have to list them?]

[OK, fine: I did better than anyone I know on that geography quiz the Angry Young Man posted a little while back. Are you happy?]

[Tag; you're "it" if you want to be. (Anyone else notice how I referenced snobbery three times in this entry? What do you think it means?)]

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