jamelah.net

Right, well, I asked for it, and then you asked for it, so there was a lot of asking for it going on here.  Fortunately, I made the wise decision to write my answers to the questions as I received them, instead of trying to answer them all at one time, because if I had actually attempted to do the latter, I would probably have gone into a coma at some point.  Anyway, thanks for your questions… it was fun to think of how to answer them.  I hope you find my answers entertaining or, at the very least, not mind-numbingly dull, but either way… onward.  After the jump.

srah: What is your best bad date story?
A couple of years ago, I got set up with this guy who wanted to go out to dinner with me, while I was thinking maybe we could meet for a low-pressure cup of coffee.  I finally agreed to dinner, and we picked a place to meet.  The day of the date, he calls me and asks if we can meet an hour later, because a hockey game is on TV.  I agree, but this is strike one, and we haven’t even met yet.  So I head to the restaurant, and when I get there, he’s not there yet, so I sit at the bar and order a glass of wine.  After about ten minutes of bar-waiting, I start getting sympathetic “Oh, she’s been stood up” looks from assorted restaurant staff, and I’m thinking “I straightened my hair for this, so it had better be good.”  He finally arrives, after calling me and requesting directions to the restaurant, and we sit at a cozy corner table.  We chat about work and travel and whatnot, and then he starts in about his cat.  The vibe I get is more than just “I have a cat I like a lot.”  It’s more, “I have a cat and this creature is the center of my universe.”  He asks if I like cats and I think, on the off chance that this turns into more than one date, that I cannot lie.  “Not really,” I say, and his face falls.  I realize that I’ve said something that is probably a dealbreaker, so I try to smooth over the awkwardness with “It’s just that I’m really allergic to them, and so I try to avoid them because of the asthma attacks and the sneezing.”  Awkward silence.  Food arrives.  Blah blah blah.  He asks, “So, you like books, right?” and we start obligatory book talk.  I say that I’d recently finished reading The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera.  He doesn’t know who Kundera is, I try to explain, it goes nowhere, so I drop it.  He says he doesn’t really read fiction, but occasionally enjoys a nice John Grisham book.  I am an adult and I let it go, even though I’m pretty sure at this point that things are over.  Then he says he also likes Hemingway.  There is hope after all.  “Yeah, he wrote that Jonathan Livingston Seagull book, right?”  I reply that no, I don’t think Hemingway did write Jonathan Livingston Seagull, and no, I don’t know who did write it because it’s something that I never read.  He says I should really check it out, I say okay even though I don’t mean it, and we have another awkward silence.  He pays the check (nice, really) and we go for a stroll.  I see the name Blue Oyster Cult on the marquee of the Michigan Theater and crack a cowbell joke, which he doesn’t get, and he asks me to explain, and really, how do you even explain that to someone who has no idea?  He walks me to my car, we share a polite, awkward hug, he says he’ll call me, I say okay, and we never speak again.  I realize that in the grand scheme of bad dates, this is pretty mild, but seriously, Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Hemingway?  I just can’t get over things like that.

Waterhot: What superpowers do you have ? What superpower would you most like to have ? Why ?
Okay, three questions.  As for the first, in regards to what superpowers I currently possess, the answer is simple:  Sarcasm Death Ray.  The irritating and stupid would cower in fear if they weren’t too irritating and stupid to get it, which I guess means that it’s a pretty ineffective superpower.  Secondly, even though I do occasionally think about how nice it would be to be able to turn invisible at will (I dream of the April Fool’s Day jokes I’d be able to pull off then), I’m actually pretty content being superpower-free (except for that whole Sarcasm Death Ray thing), though I would really really really like to have my very own Batmobile.  Why?  Seriously, it’s the Batmobile.  It’s not even possible for it to get more badass than that.

Caryn: When are we going to hold the hotlympics?
I think it should be soon.  Very, very soon.  Muahahahahah.  Can we get t-shirts for it?

Dale: How do you feel about Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups?
I love them.  So much.  Love.  Love love love love love.  Love.  Yes.  Ahem.  I’m not actually much of a candy eater, though when I do indulge, this is almost exclusively what I buy. (I admit I also have a soft spot for Snickers, because seriously?  They’re Snickers.)  But with these, I have a whole ritual that basically involves eating the Peanut Butter Cup in concentric circles until it is all gone.  I like to savor them, because I love them that much.  Did I mention that I love them?  Because I do.  Love them, that is. 

Fraulein N: Yes, I second the request for a bad date story, ’cause I’m nosy like that. Also, what’s your dream job?
My dream job involves becoming miraculously and independently wealthy, and spending considerable amounts of time lounging on the beach, being brought margaritas by my cabana boy Sergio, though that doesn’t involve doing any work whatsoever, so I think perhaps it doesn’t actually qualify as a job.  Whatever.  Details.  Honestly, and I’m not being a smartass at all when I write this, I view the phrase “dream job” as an oxymoron.  This may be part of the reason why I’m so directionless and filled with all that precious mid-20’s angst about what I’m supposed to be doing with my life and blah blah blah (I never write about this because there’s no way to do it without sounding like an annoying twat, and there’s really nothing worse than writing two sentences about something and then wanting to punch yourself).  But honestly, I just don’t even know, and whenever I start thinking about what I truly want to do I start going in so many directions that I get overwhelmed by all the possibilities and subsequently feel stuck, if that makes any sense.  But something creative, probably with at least a slight academic twist, because I always have been a book nerd.  This is a question that I’m right in the middle of trying to answer for myself, and so it’s on my mind all the time and I could pretty much go on about it all day, which means that I should probably stop.  Of course, my true dream job is to be Evil Emperor of the Planet, which may still take a few years, so all that prior babble was just about what I want to do in the interim. 

Linus: When you limit us to common decency - chafe, chafe - what are you worried we might ask across that line that you’d be mortified to answer in public? I mean, I’m sure we could come up with something if we worked on it, but what are you worried it would be? Photographs optional.
Gee, Linus, that’s not sneaky at all.  I don’t know, it’s not like I was thinking of some specific question I was so afraid of being asked that I had to include a decency clause into the proceedings, and  — I’m being honest here — whatever I could make up as an answer wouldn’t really be the truth, and I’ll explain why.  I can answer any question if I have time to choose my words carefully.  For me, the mortification aspect comes from being blindsided, put on the spot, forced to come up with an answer right then, and not from any specific subject matter.  So, if I’m going to keep being all pedantic about it, there’s really nothing that anyone could ask in this setting that would mortify me, because I’m given the option of evaluating my answers before committing to them.  Or maybe everything I typed up to now was a red herring and I’m actually afraid of someone asking me whether I’ve ever kissed a girl and if this has anything to do with why I like peanut butter so much, or something.  (By the way, yes and no, respectively.)

nprosario’s list o’ questions:
1.  If there was one thing in your life that you could go back and redo, which would it be? and why?
I guess I need to include a little bit of backstory first.  See, my father is an immigrant from Yemen, and he has two children who live there (I’ve never met them, though I have spoken to my brother on the phone once).  He and I have never been very involved with each other — my parents split up when I was two — but we see each other occasionally.  Every so often, he will return to Yemen for months at a time to be with his family there.  When I was 10, he left and said he would be back in six months, but didn’t actually return until I was 16.  I guess this is an ongoing thing more than one fixed event that I wish I could change, but I always think that I wish I would make more of an effort to be a part of my father’s life.  This is hard for reasons beyond just pride and timing, and I’d have to do an awful lot of writing to explain, which I don’t feel like doing.  But he is my father and I do love him and so I should try harder and I know it.  Fortunately, this is something I’m still able to work on, instead of being stuck with nothing but regret.

If you had the choice between learning a new language or visiting a new country which would it be and why?
Well, I’ve learned some languages in the past, and — especially in the case of Spanish, which I was nearly fluent in at one point — forgotten almost everything I learned.  Except the swear words, because really, I do know how to hang on to the important things.  But I’ve been to a few different countries, and I remember them.  So, I guess this means that I’d pick visiting a new country for $1000, Alex.

What are your religious views?
I think this post is a pretty good starting point.  Basically, I view religion as being a set of rules that people have to keep in order to be righteous, and I’m not much of a rule-keeper, so I’m pretty much the most non-religious person I know.  As such, I call what I have faith, not religion.  Even so, what I believe basically falls along the lines of Christianity, which is something that’s been practically inescapable, since I grew up with a single mother who went to seminary and has a degree in theology.  This doesn’t mean that I vote Republican, hate gay people and believe that women should be subordinate to men, and I can make jokes about Pat Robertson with the best of them.  I also don’t believe that people who don’t see things the same way I do are sentenced to eternal damnation, so I don’t proselytize, act holier than thou, or try to force my beliefs on others, because I think that faith (or the lack thereof) is a personal choice.  That doesn’t mean that I agree with every view, but I respect everyone’s right to believe (or not believe) what they want.  Because of that, I expect the same respect from others.  I don’t always get it, but I go on expecting it anyway.  So, now that I’ve gotten all of that out of the way, let me state very very clearly that I will not be baited into an argument about what I believe, so don’t bother trying.  That may have sounded defensive, but I have been on this here internet contraption for a long time, and I have been down this road before.

If you knew your friends husband was cheating, would you tell?
I’m resisting the urge to be all Lynne Truss about this question, so anyway yes, unless he was cheating with me, in which case, no.  That’s a joke.  But this is one of those questions that is impossible to answer (at least for me) because I keep thinking about all the “what ifs” involved, so, honestly, I don’t know.

If you had the money, which would you rather buy new shoes for the rest of your life OR a new car every year?
Easy.  Shoes.

If you had to choose between making jewelry and photography, which would you dedicate your life to pursuing?
Actually, I’d be a pain in the ass and pick writing.  Because writing and I have a relationship.  A long, painful, love-hate relationship (that is currently mired in the depths of hatred — my hatred for it, to be specific).  But it’s the only art form at which I am really and truly good, and I believe enough in my ability to manipulate words that I know that if I ever really wanted to, I could do something with it.  Which is funny, because I just used the word “that” twice way too close together.  Of course, writing’s not on the table, so I guess I’ll go with jewelry, because when it comes to photography, I am a complete hack, which is fine, because I have no aspirations beyond being a complete hack.

yasmine: So you have such a beautiful name (no pun intended), and I think I remember reading a post here once where you referred to yourself as Arab. So could you elaborate on that a bit more? Anything you’re comfortable with, in relation to you being Arab.
Thank you.  It’s not too nosy.  I sort of mentioned this a little further up the page, but my dad, Ali, is an immigrant from Yemen (my mom is white and from Arkansas — talk about a mixed heritage).  So I guess that technically I’m only half Arab, though it’s pretty hard to define which half, exactly.  I don’t speak Arabic (outside of the really basic stuff like hello/goodbye, thanks/you’re welcome, count to 10, what my name means, etc. — I used to know more when I was younger, but have forgotten, because apparently forgetting languages is a skill of mine), and I wish I did, because almost all of my Arab relatives are immigrants, and the language barrier is pretty thick.  Ethnically, I identify as Arab mostly because I look Arab (though most people think I’m Hispanic).  Also, even though I was raised by my white Christian mother, and this makes me different than my relatives in many ways, the Arab culture and people are part of who I am, and I identify strongly with that part of me.  I equally identify with my mom’s culture and family, however, which is why I say things like ”y’all.” 

yasmine 2: What are your thoughts on gelato, french fries, blue raspberry slurpees, and cranberry juice? (Clearly, my life revolves around food. Also, these are the key points around which I build up prospective friendships.)
Gelato is the best thing in the world.  Ever.  The end.  Nocciola?  Come on.  Is it possible for it to get better than that?  As for French fries, well, I have a deep, abiding love for all things derived from the wonderful, majestic potato, so if I could do so without weighing 500 pounds, I would probably live on them (well, fries and hash browns).  I haven’t had a blue raspberry slurpee in a really long time, but they were my favorite when I was little because of the awesome blue-tongue factor.  And cranberry juice.  Well, when I was a kid, I used to get a lot of urinary tract infections because I had problems with my kidneys (bet you didn’t think you’d learn that!) and had to drink cranberry juice all the time.  I still like it, but only rarely, and I usually have to mix it with something like Sprite.

Heather: If you could turn back the clock, would you be willing to turn it back 7 hours and 15 minutes so Heather could pose her question?
Heh.  That was noon on Thursday.

Heather (part 2): And if the answer was yes then….. if you could go back and re-live any moment or event in your life, what would it be?
Hmmm.  This is a tough one, because I’m a sucker for tiny moments that other people may or may not remember.  I can easily think of ten such moments that I could choose (and if I thought harder, I could come up with more), but because she’s gone now and we’re not going to have any more moments, I’m going to have to go with the time Stacy and I had an impromptu driveway dance party.  It was short, probably only half a song (pre-crackhead Whitney Houston, if I remember correctly), but we couldn’t stop laughing and it was so good being friends and being young and being (kind of) obnoxious. 

Heather (part 3): And….if you were driving down the road and the dj came on the radio with a song dedicated to you by someone you totally dug and who totally dug you, what song would it be?
Hah.  I can’t even imagine that happening.  Also, I have an impossible time picking songs for anything.  But, okay.  Focus.  I’m going to go with the first song that popped into my head when I started writing this sentence, which happened to be “Sweet Caroline”.  This may not be the flashiest answer, but honestly, if this were truly to happen, I would smile uncontrollably all day long, because really, you just can’t go wrong with The Neil. 

palynology: what do you like on your pizza?
When it comes to pizza, I’m pretty boring.  How boring?  Cheese.  That’s how boring.  Though I also like vegetable pizzas with things like zucchini and eggplant on them (and basil… must have basil).  But that’s only occasionally, when I’m feeling fancy.  Otherwise, yeah.  Cheese.

anonymous: greatest fear?
Waking up one morning and realizing that a) I’m old, and b) I wasted my life.  I want to avoid that at all costs, except for the old thing.  Getting old would be okay, because I think I’d probably prefer that to, uh, getting dead.  Also, spiders.  I cannot deal with spiders.  At all.  Gah.

anonymous, part the second: favorite thing to wear?

Oh, red hooded sweatshirt.  I love you so.

anonymous, part the third: biggest turn on?
God, I love men’s hands.  I love all people’s hands, actually, because of their expressiveness, but I love men’s hands especially because, um, yeah.  Guys who bring the funny?  Hot.  Knowing that Ernest Hemingway didn’t write Jonathan Livingston Seagull?  Also hot.  Well okay, no, that’s actually just common knowledge.

anonymous, part the fourth: biggest turn off?
Bad teeth.  Ill-fitting pants.  Use of hair gel.  Smugness.  Condescension.  Things like that.

anonymous, part the fifth: how do you drink your coffee?
Black.

10 questions with Linda Plaisted:
01. What is your favorite word?
This changes on a regular basis.  One of my longtime favorites is “lepidopterans”. 

02. What is your least favorite word?
Two-way tie: “moist” and “gristle”.

03. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
Warm, sunny weather, a car, and a full tank of gas.  Roadtrips (no matter how long or short) are my way of recharging when I just have nothing left.  I love to go just for the sake of going, because nomad is in my soul.  They just kind of get me back into a space where I have something to offer other than eh.

04. What turns you off?
Authority figures, bad grammar, hipsters, self-importance, and whining. 

05. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck.  It’s so versatile.  And satisfying to say.

06. What sound or noise do you love?
Church bells.  Heavy rain on the roof.  (I know this isn’t part of the question, but I also love the way the air smells when it’s expecting rain.  I love everything about rain, actually.) 

07. What sound or noise do you hate?
I hate ticking.  I cannot stand ticking clocks, and I even get irritated at night when I’m trying to go to sleep and I can hear my own heartbeat.  You’d think I’d find the sound of my heart (and subsequent proof that it is indeed working) comforting, but no, I hate it because then I listen to it instead of falling asleep.  I don’t want it to quit beating, I just don’t want to hear it.

08. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Snack food tester.  That has to be a job, right?

09. What profession would you not like to do?
You know the people who have to smell things?  I don’t know what the official title is, so I’ll call it Professional Sniffer.  First of all, I pretty much have no sense of smell unless something is incredibly, poisonously strong, so I’d be bad at it anyway.  Second of all, no.  Just… no.

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
She made it!  Pour the Scotch.

Grannie: Anything? well, ok then. When are you getting married? Huh? When? I made you the quilt, already! What else are you waiting for? I need some more great grand babies and I’m not gettin’ any younger. Come to think of it, neither are you. So, when, huh? when?
How did I know this one was coming?  Listen, Grandma, I am your thirteenth grandchild, and your youngest one at that.  I have all those older cousins who are married (or have been married) and have kids.  You have plenty of great-grandchildren.  Plenty!  But okay, you want to know when I’m getting married?  Here is my honest answer:  later.  (Maybe.)

Okay, done! I think I need a nap.

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