I’ve been tagged. By Griffin over there at Wheel Revolution. It surprised me since I don’t comment there very often, and I don’t think she’s ever commented here, but we have mutual linkage going on… and she’s got an amazing experiment in car-less living in process. Click the link to see how much stuff this woman is capable of fitting on her bike and her garden is very possibly the coolest thing I have ever seen! Anyway, I think Griffin is trying to give me a subtle hint that I should be talking about something other than depression and despair and a missing period. And she would be right.
Ok here I go. Six weird things (other than the fact that my period's gone missing even though I had high progesterone levels earlier in the month and now have none). Let’s see…
1) I only love songs that I can sing. If I can’t sing it, or I wouldn’t want to sing it… then no matter how good a song it is, it’s only meh to me. If it’s got really good lyrics a song might rise above meh to like, but I will never puffy pink heart it. This isn’t as restrictive as it might seem at first as I have quite a range in both octaves and style, and even if I can’t normally sing a song in the particular key and/or range it’s written in, I can often figure out a harmony line that makes me happy. For example… I can sing all of Les Mis… and I can do the different voices too. It’s quite a production. And when the male voices go too low for me I’ll just transpose it up an octave or two or sing it in harmony… I actually bonded with Lauri over this ability, since she can do the same thing. Unfortunately she and I never got to sing Les Mis together because we never got drunk enough to manage to do it in front of each other and now she's gone... gone...gone to the frozen cornfields of Iowa. But one day. One day…
2) I hate onions in food. Cooked or raw, it doesn’t matter. Hate them. I will eat them to be polite if I have to, but other than that, and even when I'm eating them to be polite I'll ususally hit a limit of how many I can eat before I start picking them out and shoving them to the side of the plate… Ok, that’s not the weird thing. The weird thing is that every once in a while I’ll get a craving for French onion soup. It’s actually the cheese and bread that I’m craving, but there’s something about them being in the soup… and I love funyuns and green bean casserole with the French fried onions on top. Now THAT’s weird, right?
3) Sometimes, for no reason at all, I’ll just open my mouth and sing “la la laaaaaa.” Sometimes I even do it when people can hear. And then they look at me funny. Sometimes I think it’s funny and I’ll do it again. But most of the time I just wonder why I did that in the first place. Kristin hates it when I do that. And she tells me that I do it more when I’m stressed out or off my meds. My perception is that I do it more when I’m having happy moments during those stressful times. Like I’m so happy and content during those brief moments that the contrast between those moments and the normal stress makes me want to sing… eh. Who knows?
4) I insist that the bathroom, when the door is shut, be a “Zone of Silence”. I don’t care that the door is thin and really you can hear everything that takes place on either side. I like to pretend that you can’t hear me pee and, ahem, other things. And thus the Zone of Silence. Don’t break my bubble of denial. If you talk to me when I have the bathroom door shut I either won’t answer (because I can’t hear you, duh, it’s a Zone of Silence) or if I’m not indisposed (ie, if I don’t have my pants down) I’ll open the door and say in a really annoyed tone of voice, “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you; the door was shut.” If it’s a guest trying to talk to me, I’ll tone down the annoyed tone. But Kristin should know better, for goodness’ sake! I’ll do you the favor of not listening to you when you’re in there, too. So don’t be sitting on the porcelain throne and try to talk to me. I won’t hear you. I’m serious. I really won’t. I’ve eased up on this a bit since Julia’s arrival, since I need to be on call even when answering a call, but I still find it disconcerting.
5) I am really fascinated with variations on a theme. When I was a musician variations on a theme were always my favorite exercises. I love the establishment of a “norm” and then how little changes can make such a dramatic difference. I really love listening to the original version of a song, and then listening to covers so I can compare and contrast. And this love of mine goes beyond music, too. I love looking at different versions of the same scene or object as painted by different students in a class. I love books that tell the same story but through different perspectives and narratives. And I love collecting variations on a theme. In fact, it goes a bit further than love into a form of obsession sometimes. It’s why there are 7 different varieties of mint in my tea garden. Because they’re all different! But they’re all the same! And look! This one’s got purple leaves, but it’s still mint! I love tasting them and savoring their subtle differences. It’s why our house is cluttered with things. Because I may have elephants, (or fish, or turtles, or frogs) but I don’t have this elephant. This elephant is different, but it’s still an elephant! Wouldn’t it look great on the shelf with all the other elephants, like a little elephant commune? … I like to think that I’m like this because I’m fascinated by the differences which divide us from each other (on both personal and political levels), and the commonalities which bring us back together. But, really, that’s just a secondary justification.
Finally, 6) I rehearse and rehash entire conversations… out loud. Yeah, that’s right. I talk to myself. In fact, I'm talking to myself right now. I tell myself (and now you know, when I’m saying I tell myself, I’m really, actually, physically telling myself) that it’s ok, as long as I’m only playing the one part out loud. When I start speaking as someone else… that’s when I’ll have to admit that there’s a problem. Right now, at least, the other person’s voice stays in my head and I only vocalize the part that I should have said, or wish I could have said, or will say (if I’m rehearsing what will be a difficult conversation). I think this is perfectly normal, but it used to freak the fuck out of my dad -- probably still would if he could hear it.
Ok. I’m now supposed to tag 6 people in turn. I’m going to make this more of a suggestion. I would love to read 6 weird things about HD, Blue Ox, Plimco, Merr, Brooke, and Charlotte (both of those last two are people whom I think need a distraction). If I didn’t tag you it’s because a) I may have a fuzzy (and possibly incorrect) memory of you doing this meme sometime in the past, b) I don’t think you’ll do it anyway (though I’m not sure anyone I tagged will actually do it either) and/or c) I DO want to hear your 6 things, but I’m sticking to the rules and only tagging 6 people. Or, you know, of course it could also mean that I secretly hate you. I don’t, but then I’d say that, wouldn’t I, if it were a secret hate and I wanted to keep it that way?