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Monkey or giraffe?
Giraffe, please. Acorn fills the monkey slot in our household neatly, what with all the jumping about. Besides, I was once bitten on the eye by a monkey, and I’m still mad at it.
Wood fireplace or gas fireplace?
Wood. Do I look like a dinosaur killer to you?
Jump off a cliff into the water, or bungee jump off a bridge?
Since my imagination is leading me to a tall cliff with either not enough water, or so much water I’d have trouble getting back up to the surface (have I mentioned I’m not a strong swimmer?), I’ll go with the bungee jumping.
Almond or hazelnut?
Almond. I’ve never had hazelnuts, just hazelnut-flavoured something-or-others, which I didn’t like. But I don’t like almond-flavoured anythings either, so who knows really. I do love almonds, though.
Walk or ride?
Ride my bike! Whee!
Piano or guitar?
Piano, though I don’t play either.
Roller coaster or ferris wheel?
Ferris wheel, because Acorn’s not big enough for roller coasters yet. What fun is it to ride one by yourself?
Scrambled or poached?
My grandmother would make poached eggs when I was a kid. That was almost the only way I’d eat eggs, and even so I would only eat the whites. Nowadays, it’s scrambled egg sandwiches.
Sunburn or windburn?
Windburn. In my experience it’s easier to treat and doesn’t do as much damage.
Jujube or jelly bean?
Um… jelly beans? I guess, based on the fact that I had to visit Google to find out what Jujubes are.
Trivial Pursuit or Scrabble?
Scrabble. I love words, it’s better suited for two-person play, and I stink at the kind of pop culture trivia that pops up so often in Trivial Pursuit.
Radio or music you bring with you?
Mp3 player, alternated with NPR. (If that’s waffling, just tell me what type of syrup you prefer.)
Gloves or mittens?
Snow or rain (SERIOUSLY IS THAT EVEN A CHOICE)
No, that’s not even a choice. Next question.
Orange chocolate or mint chocolate?
Mint chocolate. Orange chocolate is disgusting.
Flannel or smooth sheets?
Smooth. Geeze, what are you trying to do, cook me in my sleep?
Bubbles or confetti?
Bubbles. Great for entertaining cats and kidlets, and not as much mess to clean up as confetti makes.
Buffet or plate service?
Plate service. Buffet always seems to have been left sitting out a little too long. Unless it’s potluck.
The smell of cinnamon or the smell of vanilla?
Cinnamon. Once in college, I returned from a trip abroad and baked batches of cinnamon cookies and lit a cinnamon candle, because I had just spent two months in a country that considered cinnamon an optional ingredient in apple pie.
These choices were posed today by Meg Fowler, who regularly hosts Choose Ye segments. Feel free to play along, either in my comments, in Meg’s comments, or on your own blog — if you choose that last option, please comment to let me know so I can read your post!
“Acorn, quit poking the cat with your baton.”
“I not poking her. I teaching her. I helping her learn.”
“Oh, really? What are you teaching the cat?”
There passes a long moment filled with frantically rolled eyes, a twisted mouth, and several “um”s. At last, he comes up with an answer he thinks will be acceptable.
“I’m teaching her about Jesus!”
I am a participant in Holidailies 2007.
Lately, I’m loving shopping. No, not going to the mall and browsing. I’ve always hated that (except on certain rare occasions in good company). And certainly not buying things.
But I’ve been looking at the unsolicited catalogs that come in the mail and the random web sites that are having a Big Sale. Combing through them page by page. Picking out what I want, what I need, the things that will surely, somehow, make my life better. Easier. More beautiful.
I hunt for bargains. I reject things on a whim: too expensive. Too beige. Not enough cashmere. I load up my imaginary shopping cart with hundreds of dollars of goods, things I not only can’t afford but wouldn’t really want if I could buy them, things I wouldn’t have room for or make good use of. But I don’t think about that, only about what I like.*
Then I close the browser window. I throw away the catalog. I don’t buy a thing, and I go back to my ordinary life, having feasted my eyes on the array of colors designed solely to appeal to them. I am reassured and reminded that I have no material need unfilled. I am refreshed.
*Well, because I’m me, I also think a little about what makes an item in a catalog or on a web site appealing, what makes it appear to fill a need I only have while looking at that page. How it’s pictured. What rhetorical techniques the sales copy has used. The layout of the page. The senses it’s appealing to. This kind of analysis is also a pleasure, for me.
Every time I check my Gmail account these days, the notice at the very top of the screen catches my eye. It says, in bold red letters, “New! Bigger attachments.” And every time, I glance around for the “mark as spam” button, because really: bolded red text, with exclamation marks, and the word “bigger?” Where else do you usually find that combination?
I’ve got some good posts brewing, finally. One was nigh-complete, but then disappeared entirely. I hope to write more soon, but in the meantime, please enjoy my Visual DNA. It’s in the footer for now, though if anyone can tell me how to get it into a post on WordPress, I’ll move it.
After you read mine, you may wish to make your own. If you do, please let me know; although I don’t think the categories they assigned me to are accurate, the descriptions are right on.
I’d like to the first page where I found VisualDNA, but I don’t remember where that was any more, as I’ve seen it so often in the last few days. So, here’s a link to Nina’s post about her VisualDNA, as I know hers was one of the first few I did see.
“This is a nonfiction drawing.”
—9-year-old kid, to his mom
Coworker in the next cubicle: Wow, did you smell my client who just left?
Me: No, I… Wait. That was your client?
Me: Okay, that explains why I couldn’t find anything on the bottoms of my shoes.
And no, it’s not Acorn. A pre-approved credit card application came to the house today, addressed as follows:
P. O. Box
911 Our Street
Function Junction, Homestate
The Box family really needs to put a little more thought into the initials they’re bestowing upon their children.
Here, I walk every day–long walks along the shore and out to the old fort. The wind is strong. I keep walking in order not to face it, but I get to the lighthouse and have no choice but to turn around and lean into it howling around my ears. My face and legs are tingling with cold, almost numb, but my heart beats strong. I am so tired, but I keep walking because I have to get home.
And I too keep putting one foot in front of the other, because I must. I must.