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me. me.
06/04/2008 = 09:20 AM

I ganked this from Avitable, whose answers are far more fascinating than mine, but then, so is his life.

I think it was a meme, or possibly just a survey, but I'm going to present it in complete sentences so it's a post instead.

I am Golf Widow.

Once, an anonymous commenter on Quin's blog said my opinion meant nothing because all I am is some woman whose husband would rather golf than spend time with her.

Yes, my username does say that.

However, the username "Anonymous" says "I'm a coward who wants to have an opinion but doesn't have the courage to back it up," so I don't feel particularly bad about That Man of Mine's golf habits.

My overall philosophy has a few different points that, taken altogether, pretty much shape all of my beliefs:

First of all, I believe that, if everyone in the world would be nice and also be impressed by our surroundings, we'd all be happier, but I myself don't even like about three-quarters of the people I know personally, so asking entire nations for world peace on this basis is just silly.

Second of all, I believe that my religion is right and yours is wrong, that my political opinions are right and yours are wrong, that I am a better driver than you are, and that I make better chili than you do.

I also believe that the opposite, in all four of the above criteria, is true.

This leads to my theory that the Universe is big enough for everyone to be correct; and the main reason we fight, either one-on-one or in planet-scale wars, is that we are incapable of ever taking all the possibilities of each individual's (or each nation's) right-ness into account at once.

Think about it. Remember something you've done, where you were sure you were making the right decision and, it turned out, you were right, but everyone was convinced you were wrong. They didn't take all your possibilities into account. On the flip side of that, consider someone who's done something wrong in the past. Look at it from his or her point of view. Even though you knew it's wrong, can you sort of see how that person could fix it in his or her mind so that he or she knew it was right?

This, ultimately, leads to my motto, which is: "We ask for advice when what we really want is permission."

It translates itself. The answer to "What do you think I should do?" is never going be followed unless it fits into what the asker already has in mind.

My first thought in the morning is "I can do anything." Repeat as needed (with or without teeth clenched) throughout the day.

My current mood is, frankly, impatient. Stuff that was supposed to happen last Friday still has not happened. No fault of mine. This is all to do with a whole lot of people being under the impression that their time is worth more than mine.

In five years, I will be forty-two, which is the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, so I am immensely excited to reach that age. Also, I will probably walk around telling people I am six, in dog years.

My thoughts on life is that we are a sentient by-product of the formation of the Universe, and that we, collectively, are probably not the only ones; we're just the only ones we know of, so far.

It doesn't take much to win my love. Sometimes, all you have to be is a really cute pair of shoes. But give me one little blister and I will dump your arse faster than you can say, "You can't do that to me. I'm gellin'."

I don't consider myself successful because I have not yet achieved peace of mind. I don't need to be ostentatiously wealthy, famous, or powerful to be a success, but I do need to have a lot less stress, and a tiny amount of financial stability, popularity, and respect might help me feel a little better about myself.

I'd also like to have enough additional money that I could afford to be ostentatiously generous (for instance, I don't necessarily want to go to Milan and buy a new wardrobe for myself, but I'd love to take Juma to Milan and buy her a new wardrobe). That would make me feel more successful.

I take small happinesses when I can get them. Unfortunately, I stopped believing in big happinesses sometime in my childhood. Having two Sonics within five minutes of where we'll be staying while we get back on our feet, that's about the biggest happiness I've got going right now.

I'm not afraid of death, as such. I just hope it won't hurt too much.

My biggest fears are of bugs; a person from my past who is not only good at stalking, she takes a diseased pleasure in it; and a house about which I have recurring nightmares. If there is a hell and I go there when I die, all of those things will be in my personal hell.

I have never covered the topic of abortion in here before now. It's a profoundly volatile subject, because it's also profoundly personal. I believe that what goes on in your own body is your own business, male or female, pregnancy- or non-pregnancy-related, and how you take care of that is also your own business — and not mine.

Insofar as this ties into the question of whether or not abortion is murder ... well, in order for any of this to make sense in my philosophy that there's room for everyone to be right, I must consider the possibility that a person who kills an abortion doctor (in essence, performing an abortion in, like, the hundred fiftieth trimester) is "right" but the doctor himself or herself is also "right."

So I'm considering the possibility, without actually liking it, agreeing with it, or advocating it as a personal opinion, which, again, brings us back to "what goes on in your own body is your own business," and, conversely, that what goes on in mine is my own.

At this perimenopausal point in my life, I'd have to say the question has a very slim chance of becoming an issue.

I believe that poverty exists because some people take more than what is theirs, some people don't take enough because they're too worried about there not being enough, some people give too much and don't keep enough, and some people simply don't know that there's more out there, let alone where to get it.

I also believe that, if we found some way, even with all the births and deaths that occur every moment, to collect all the wealth in the world and redistribute it evenly amongst the entire population, within about a week we'd each probably be in the same boats as before, because it's ingrained in our individualities.

I have to agree with Avi that I wish the United Nations had more power. If we could get the world to abide by the stuff that the intelligent people in one room can agree about, we'd be a lot safer.

But, again, it comes down to that same point I made before: I don't like that woman who kept hitting me with her purse in the checkout line; how can I expect a divided nation to listen to one person, even one of their own people, when he or she says, "Look, we have a solution to the problem, but it's only going to work if we all cooperate"?

This brings me to the concept of war, in general.

We have war because we, collectively, are simply incapable of loving all our neighbors at once.

I can love and support the soldiers who are preserving my safety, my way of life, and my freedom, without advocating the reasons (or the people) that have put these soldiers into the frightening and dangerous positions of having to do so.

Suicide, like abortion, is intensely volatile and intensely personal. What I might consider a reason to end it all might seem completely silly and selfish to you; and the converse is also true.

On the whole, I would have to say that curiosity is the main reason I haven't found a bridge to jump off of, as yet. I'm too nosy about what might happen next and too jealous to stop now and possibly miss something good.

I don't have a single favorite author. This point is best illustrated by the difficulty I've been having in determining which of my books must travel with me to my new home state immediately, and which ones can go into storage until we find our own place.

So far, all my writing references (including Shakespeare's complete works with sonnets), and all my cookbooks are coming with us, but I cry a little as each of my JK Rowling, Stephen King, Dave Barry, Rex Stout, Terry Pratchett (except Good Omens), and Theodore Sturgeon books (not to mention all the other authors I've been collecting pretty much since I learned to read) goes into the totes riding to the storage facility.

My favorite book is Good Omens, and that's why it's got to come with us. I could replace it, no problem (hell, I have — I keep giving it to people to read) but I don't want to.

My favorite music lyric is from The Merry Minuet, an old song by the Kingston Trio. "What nature doesn't do to us will be done by our fellow man." I wind up singing this line at least once a day whilst reading the news.

My favorite quotation about life is:

"This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays."
— Arthur Dent, upon learning the Earth was about to be destroyed, in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

My favorite curse word is "fuck." I just love a word that's so flexible. By itself, it can be a noun, a verb, or an interjection; add the suffix "-ing" and it can be a gerund, a participle, an adjective, or an adverb. It can indicate both intense displeasure and intense pleasure, which means that, while its context leaves no ambiguity as to which emotion is intended, it also lends itself well to some serious (and not so serious) wordplay.

My favorite movie tends to change from viewing to viewing. Last week, my favorite movie was Monty Python and the Holy Grail, right now, my favorite movie is Prince Caspian, and if I beg enough, it's possible that my favorite movie next week will be Iron Man. Or it might be Juno, depending on whether or not I watch it again in that time frame.

I do know, for sure, it won't be National Treasure: Book of Suck.

My favorite movie quote, from City Slickers, is, "If hate were people, I'd be China." It's not the sentiment that gets me — it's the analogy. It's the cynical version of the quote from the book (not the movie) The Princess Bride, when Westley says, "If your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches." Aren't metaphors awesome?

I think the best job in the world (for me) would be silent partner and co-owner of the LOL Diner (gift shoppe here), and best-selling author.

The worst job, for me, would be politics. I don't want to have to be ruthless in order to get people to follow my lead, and I don't want to have to make decisions for them.

My biggest accomplishment, to date, is having published a book that is not selling well at all, but that I am extremely proud of in terms of its content and how hard I worked on it.

Within the next five years, I hope to finish writing at least one more book, possibly two, and while I hope they will sell better than my first book, I will be satisfied if I can at least be proud of them in terms of their respective contents and how hard I am working on them.

If I die tomorrow, I don't really want a funeral. I don't have any money, so my survivors are going to have to pay for anything that happens, which sucks.

I want my remains to be disposed of by the least expensive means possible; whether this means cremation or donation to science, I don't really care. I won't need any of that stuff anymore.

If someone wants to have a memorial service, I just basically don't want a lot of money spent. A party, with a jam session and Groucho glasses, would be nice, but only if everyone's okay with that. I'm sort of leaving it up to whomever's still alive at that point.

I don't care who delivers a eulogy, or if no one wants to. I don't want to put that kind of pressure on anyone.

But if someone wants to say something, I'd appreciate if he or she could mention that I always tried to be kind to penguins.

I came into this world with a bit of excitement. I was two weeks late, and I was ill enough as a newborn that the Mom had to leave the hospital without me till they could figure out what was wrong.

I would like to leave this world with a bit of excitement as well, but as quickly as possible, so that, even if it does hurt, it'll be over soon.

I'm sort of hoping for an explosion. That fits my criteria, and is also sort of entertaining for people like That Man of Mine and My Friend Who Isn't But Is Sort Of, who like explosions.

However I wind up getting my bucket-kicking on, I want to state, here and now, if any of you find me hovering between the ethers, lying on a hospital bed and hooked up to a bunch of medical equipment that's doing my breathing, my circulation, and my peeing and pooing, but not helping me with my thinking or my communicating, pull the damned plug.

If I knew in advance I was going to die, I'd tell the Mom and That Man of Mine, but probably not anyone else. I might write a blog post and leave it on draft so that it could be published as sort of a death announcement once I'm all done with this life.

If I were to write a letter to be read, post-mortem, at my memorial service, here's what it would say:

"I won't mention your name; you know who you are. You also know that I knew some bad shit about you, and I never told. I've taken your secrets to the grave, literally, and I hope you appreciate that."

I wish I could still be alive to see who'd glance around after that line is delivered, and who would try to avoid eye contact.

Upon arriving at the Pearly Gates, assuming there are some, I imagine I may be told I'm ineligible, but if I could hear exactly what I'd want to hear, that would be, "Come on in and help yourself to coffee. The library's this way."

I have already discussed what I'd like my last words to be, earlier this year, but they bear repeating. I have stolen them from the blog of the Playwright Currently Known as Prince.

"This is the sort of thing that causes straight men to make gay porn."

And then, die.

I really really hope I remember to say that.

The quickest way, I have found, to start a conversation, is to say something that requires a comment or reply from the other person, and the quickest way to get a comment or reply is to make him or her talk about him or herself. "That's a great shirt" is okay, but "Where did you get that shirt?" is better.

A quick way to end a conversation depends on why you're ending it. If you like the person you're talking to, but you really have to leave, say, "Excuse me" before you say anything else. "Excuse me, I have to pee," "Excuse me, I'm late, I'll talk to you tomorrow," "Excuse me, I have to go say hi to Joan and Bill," "Excuse me, but I'm in labor" are all acceptable.

If you don't know or dislike the person and they won't shut up, any of the above are also acceptable. Just skip the "Excuse me" part. It totally changes the delivery.

Either way, you must walk away immediately, with that being your last line. Do not turn back, even if the other person says something else. As soon as you turn back, you're making a commitment to having to end the conversation again, and you already had enough trouble with that.

Lift your hand, still walking. Polite version (with "Excuse me") translates to "I did hear you — we'll talk about it as soon as we can"; rude version (without "Excuse me") translates to "Talk to the booty, 'cos the hand's off duty."

My final thoughts on this post are that, if I hadn't been hell bent to answer everything Avi answered, I probably would have skipped the abortion discussion. I don't care to open cans of worms about any subject, particularly one where I don't feel qualified to back up my opinions with hard facts.

I'd also appreciate it if, even though you're sure I'm wrong and you're right, you click the little X in the corner rather than unleash your vitriol in my comments. Make no mistake, I will censor the hell out of you.

This is not to say I don't care about your opinion. Please feel free to visit Avi's page to get the original survey questions, then answer them in your own blog. I am interested in seeing them, and I will consider all the possibilities.

Tags: meme

drinking: coffee
watching: a thing about Nazis on the History Channel
lunch today: the curry i was promised last week that didn't happen