Tag Archives: meme

Terse.

Here’s my response to the one-word meme.  Freshhell tagged me by implication.  You’ll catch on.

Where is your cell phone: hallway.
Your hair: messy
Your significant other: siren
Your mother: displaced
Your father: urban
Your favorite thing: books
Your dream last night: none
Your favorite drink: coffee
Your dream/goal: publication
The room you are in: kitchen
Your fear: dementia
Where do you want to be in 6 years: published
Muffins: eggless
One of your wish list items: time
Where you grew up: Brooklyn
The last thing you did: drank
What are you wearing: pajamas
Your TV: Sony
Your pets: robotic
Your computer: macalicious
Missing someone: no
Your life: packed
Your mood: foul
Your car: old
Favorite store: Strand
Your summer: distant
Your favorite color: black
When is the last time you laughed: Monday
Last time you cried: 2001
Where were you last night: home
Something that you are not: focused

Tag.  You.  Are.  It.

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Do Not Annoy Happy Fun Ball.

Ralfast of Neither Here Nor There has tagged me with directions to identify six things that make me happy.  Never one to pass up an opportunity to talk about myself, I am happy to comply.

Two caveats, before I start:

1.  You’ll note sex isn’t on the list.  This is not because sex does not make me happy; to the contrary.  But everyone I’ve seen do this meme has listed sex, and it seems a little like a cop-out at this point for me to include it, too.  Or I could include breathing on the list as well, and only have to think of four things.

Also, my mother occasionally reads this blog.

2.  The list is not in any kind of order.  I’m even going to mix it up when I’m done so it isn’t in the order I think of things.  Because I detest prioritizing.

THE LIST OF SIX THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY:

G.  Running.  I like to run.  I like running long distances in particular.  I like running in lousy weather, I even like running on a treadmill if that’s my only option.  I get very, very unhappy when I can’t run.

π.  Climbing walls.  I’ve only done it a few times, but there’s something indescribably wonderful about climbing a thirty-foot climbing wall, muscles screaming, hands scrabbling for purchase…

57.  My family.  The Green Eyed Siren and I have been together for more than 20 years, and we can still surprise and delight each other.  Our kids are genuinely nice, compassionate people who are interesting to talk to.  Is it any wonder that my first instinct when I get invited out for drinks after work is to say no?

AAA.  Apocolyptic science fiction.  Give me a good end of the world (or end of the world as we know it) story — zombies, the singularity, gray goo, whatever — and I’m engrossed.  I suspect it comes from growing up in the shadow of Teh Bomb (and within the probable kill zone from an H-bomb strike on Kennedy Airport).

¥. France.  The nation of France makes me happy.  I’ve been through most of it, and I love the towns, I love the cities, I love the food.  I don’t love the bathrooms at the youth hostel in Cassis, but the little canyons and secluded beaches make up for it.

6.  The beach.  Every summer, the Unfocused family packs up and heads for the beach for a week or two.  It is always the highlight of our year.

Now I’m supposed to tag six of you, but I’m just going to let you tag yourselves (Mike, this means you).  If you do, please leave a link in the comments.

I’m It.

At least, I assume I’m It, because that’s what usually happens when I get tagged. Mada tagged me for the dreaded “Six Things About Me” blog meme, and now I have to come up with six things about myself and tag six other bloggers.

Before I forget, I need to post the rules. The rules are:

  1. Link to the person who tagged you.
  2. Post the rules.
  3. Write six things about yourself.
  4. Tag six people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
  5. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their sites.
  6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

Without further ado, here are six things about my favorite subject, me

  1. I picked “The Unfocused Life” as my domain name because I’m, y’know, kind of unfocused. I can focus; it’s not like I have adult ADHD or anything. I think. Several of my coworkers over the years have suggested that I might, but what do they … hey, what’s that shiny thing?
  2. In college, I went through three majors before I settled on Political Science. The other two were Physics and Philosophy, so at least I stuck to the P section of the course catalog. Before you ask, there was no Psychology major until my third or fourth year; until then, it was called Behavioral Science.
  3. I hate doing little fussy projects with my hands. When I was around 8, my mother gave me a chemistry set for my birthday, after I begged her and begged her and begged her and begged her for it. I did one experiment: I made invisible ink, which, unsurprisingly, I couldn’t read, and then I was done. I started a couple of others, but getting these teeny-tiny amounts of chemicals into the teenier, tinier test tubes made me INSANE. In high school, I got a crystal radio kit; the instructions said you must coil the wire around the tube carefully and neatly, without any twists in the wire. I screwed it up on the second turn of the wire around the tube, and I was done. This afternoon, I helped Unfocused Girl make a set of pentominoes (we’re taking turns reading Chasing Vermeer to each other before she goes to bed, and they play a major role in the book), and I wanted to stab myself with the scissors. Not because I objected to doing a project with UG — far from it, which is why I was able to stick it out — but because drawing the grid on the cardboard, and then cutting out the shapes … made … me … all … twitchy … arg! I’m perfectly happy doing big things with my hands, however; a few years ago, my father-in-law and I spent the weekend building an enormous playset in the backyard for the kids — no problem.
  4. If I go more than a few days without running, I have dreams that I’m smoking. I quit smoking in 1992.
  5. Last movie that made me cry? Armageddon. Not the ending — it was the scene where [SPOILER ALERT] the young son of one of the crew members who didn’t know his father at all is watching the crew board the shuttle and says to his mother, “Look, that salesman’s on TV,” and his mother says, “That’s not a salesman, that’s your daddy.” [END SPOILER] My only excuse that I was watching it on an Air France flight home from Paris, and I drank a LOT of Veuve Cliquot before the movie started.
  6. My least favorite chore before going to bed is feeding Big Pink Fishie. I have no idea why; it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Enough about me; let’s talk about you talking about me. Or about you, if you must. I hereby tag:

Spynotes

Everything Under the Sun

Orbis Writings

Polybloggimous

Spontaneous Derivation

Life in Scribbletown