You Think You Know Someone…
04Feb09
- I just bought a pair of prescription Coach sunglasses to go with my Value Village clothes. I’ve never owned sunglasses before, and I’m excited, but I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t deserve them. I’m intimidated by the brand name – (but it was the only pair that looked decent!).
- The fear that paralyzes me the most is of vomiting (by me or others).
- I love animals more than I love most people.
- I don’t want to live in Canada, and since I was young, have always loved, felt drawn to, but never been to England.
- I feel quite confident that most decisions I make are the wrong ones.
- I am quite immature.
- I have been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder before. I think I might still have it, but not nearly as much as 10 years ago.
- Sometimes I feel that being a receptionist is very low-brow and that I’m wasting my education. But I know I’m not wasting my strangely excellent people skills.
- I love books so much I am anxious about not being able to take them with me when I die as well as read and buy as many as I wish before I die. I am obsessed with them.
- I am a snob when it comes to people who act low-income and uneducated. Usually they are smokers with bad grammar. I especially despise those who talk with a particular Canadian accent that sounds as though they have no class. I feel ashamed about this, but I can’t help it.
- I have an ultra-strong sense of smell and notice what a place or person smells like before anything else.
- I call myself a Christian, but I don’t go to church or follow any particular denomination. I believe more in spirituality than religion. At the same time, it hurts when my parents say I’m not a Catholic anymore, even though I guess it’s true.
- I get quite homesick for my family very often (yet can’t stand to be with them for very long).
- I love talking and reading about history, philosophy, literature, and other subjects academically, but I actually, in spite of having studied and enjoyed them, remember almost nothing of what I’ve learned. Thus, I can’t contribute much of value to any conversation.
- My memory is exceedingly poor.
- I have never liked Alice Munro’s writing. Now there’s an author who depresses me. For a long, long time, I was so afraid as a Canadian honours English grad to admit I didn’t like her that I even bought and read all of her books. One day a couple of years ago, I realized my stupid charade and got rid of them all.
- I still resent my ex-husband for taking my good dishes with him and then getting rid of them almost 9 years ago.
- I am very afraid of drunk people.
- I am afraid of other people’s grief.
- I despise being surrounded by many people who are eating.
- I long for constant warmth and sunshine. Cold makes me very miserable and irritable.
- I feel as though I’m in a constant state of trying to get comfortable, especially physically and emotionally.
- One of my favourite things to do is watch movies with Colin and Lucy.
- Tea is my very favourite drink.
- If I won the lottery, the first thing I would do is start up Biblio, my bookshop tearoom, exactly the way I imagine it, sparing nothing. Some days, though, I feel I would buy my boss another practice, where she wants (in Picton) so she can fulfill her dream. It’s the way she talks about it that makes me want to do that for her. (And no, she doesn’t read this blog!)
Filed under: miscellaneous | 12 Comments
Ok, I haven’t even finished reading this yet, and I am stuffing my fist in my mouth and gurgling. (I think I”m supposed to be working, and the office is deathly quiet). This is WAY too funny!
“Tea is my very favourite drink.” That right there makes you OK in my book!
PS Great list.
Steph,
10, 11, 12, 13 had me nodding my head in agreement. Me too, me too.
And on 14—you may not be able to parrot back factoids, but there’s no doubt that the history, philosophy, literature, etc. that you’ve read has made you the complex and fascinating creature that you are. So take heart. Maybe you won’t win on a quiz show but you’re you because of it all.
Regards,
Kelly
@ Sis: The image of you doing this made me laugh out loud and totally delighted me. Of all the people I love to make laugh, you are definitely one of my favourites. However, what the hell was so funny, I ask you?
PS. Number 13 doesn’t apply to you, at least the part in parenthesis. It’s important you know that.
@ Paul: Ah! Being okay in your books for such a simple thing makes me happy! Thank you!
@ Kelly: I know we’re similar just from reading your comments, and I love it. Also, what a very lovely thing to say about me; thank you. And you’re right. Besides, I thought afterwards, I can have some really fantastic conversations about books. Now that stuff I retain to an unnatural degree! (As for winning quiz shows, I seem to know a lot of useless facts — at least, so say a few people — and am not bad at trivia games!)
Steph – that’s funny, really. I should’ve said it makes you fabulous in my book, which you are
Paul: I’m blushing!!
#18 – does that mean you won’t come to a bonfire at my house?
(Friar & I are nice when we’re drunk, honest!)
And #4 I can totally identify with, as you know.
Good list Steph.
Brett: I’m sure you guys would be fine.
Though I have to admit, nothing is as funny or whatever as others see it when you’re the only sober one!
Can totally relate to 12 and 13, having been a lapsed Catholic for quite some time and having lived away from my family for more than 20 years.
A while ago, you told me in a comment that if I’m still thinking of moving back home (even for a short while), I should just do it. I haven’t committed to that yet, but I did ask Dad if he’d like me to go on a trip he’s been talking about for years. I’m afraid since he’s 82 that he might never do it, so I’m hoping I’ll motivate him.
If you’re ever in Colorado, I hope you’ll look me up.
I also hope you find a way to start your tea shop in the cheap. Maybe a local coffeeshop would let you hold a tea some days? Or maybe you could do the tea shop in your home? Or in a public space? Sort of a guerrilla tea shop?
I always thought you were British for some reason.
#16: Yes! I’ve never liked Alice Munro either. Totally Debbie Downer. When you were still in University and I came to your apartment and was googling at all your books, you gave me a book of short stories by her (something something Happy Shades?) and I was so excited because I really looked up to you and thought I’d be totally cool for reading her…and then I read it, and was like, I don’t get the hype. But was too embarressed to tell you!
Beth: You’re not the only one to suggest doing the bookshop tea room out of my home! it’s not a terrible idea but it’s so much less than what i imagine it doesn’t excite me. I do have friends for tea and a few of them even appreciate my little baby room of a library, but this Biblio is so fleshed out in my head anything less is…well, less and thus not very motivating for me. The place in my head has so much character, is such a large part, you see.
I am reading a lot about tea, though, lately, and wow, the stuff is magical!
@ Eric: No shit! Really?? I wonder if that’s significant. Totally cool, anyway! I’ll take it as a compliment, actually, though I doubt some would.
@ T: Dance of the Happy Shades, you mean. Actually, that one was okay. Not spectacular, but I could finish it. We read it for a university class.
What I feel guilty for now is not necessarily not liking Alice Munro who is hailed as one of the foremost Canadian storytellers but rather the way I talk about her writing. I keep imagining how much that would hurt if I read that someone found my books barely readable and depressing and basically meh. Though she’s undoubtedly mature enough and seasoned enough to know that some will love her and some won’t, and that chacun a son gout (with all the accents that I’m too lazy to type). But still. Perhaps that’s why I’ve kept Runaway and a collection of short stories that was given us as a wedding gift.