In lieu of work

Damn you, Kulturfluff, for meme-ing me!! Since this isn't the first time you've done this to me, can we call it a re-meme? Is this rememenation? In the voice of Gov. Ahnold: I'm a memenator. Your blogs, give them to me. When any of those, uh, words show up in the OED, give me a call.

Considering that blogging is looking better than anything else I've got on my plate this weekend, I'll participate in the spirit in which this was meant. Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog. Done. See above.
2. Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself. Done. See below.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. Not possible. See further below.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. Still not possible. See below.

7 random or weird things about myself.
This may be possible but it is not easy, due to the fluid definition of the words "normal" and "weird." One blogger's norm is another's not-so-norm. But I will give it a try. I have no idea if I'll be able to reach the requested 7 and I've been thinking about this since I got notice of the memeification.

1. I am a scaredy-cat. Since I saw the Hush episode of Buffy TVS, I cannot even listen to the episode soundtrack. Totally freaks me out. When the music starts, all I see are large-headed floating men in robes (hmm, perhaps I'm having flashbacks to my horrific Catholic upbringing; more pondering required). I cannot watch horror movies in the dark. I have to watch them very early on a Saturday morning when there is plenty of daylight ahead so I can begin the process of forgetting the movie before dusk ever falls. When I am tired, my fear of the dark manifests itself as a hesitancy to go into a dark part of the house because I know I will feel goo on the wall where the light switch should be and/or the ghoulie will grab me right before the lights come on or I will find the corpses of the watch-cats in puddles of blood and vittles. None of these events has happened ... yet.
   


2. One of my cats is named Square Root of Nine, or Three, for short. When she's behaving, she's known as Positive Three. When she's not behaving or she's thinking outside the box, she's called Negative Three. Her tabby markings give her a nice 9 on her side. She was named before she was adopted from the pound so the marking is a coincidence. It was obvious that more than two cats were going to live with me and coming up with names was an ordeal so I thought streamlining the process much like the Borg did would be a good move. When 7 of 9 came to my lips, it immediately morphed into Square Root of Nine due to my math background. This naming process lasted for one cat only. Chaos came into the house soon after Three and Barque Simpson came after that. The pet naming book given by a friend in an attempt to prevent psychological damage to my pets due to their odd names apparently had no effect on the outcomes.
   


3. I hate juniper bushes because they smell like fresh cat urine. Do none of you people who have made this ugly shrub a mainstay in your landscaping realize this? I can pick 'em out at 20 paces. Before I see them, I can smell them and will often cross the street. It's horrid.


4. I can ride a unicycle. I learned when I was 12 and, like a bicycle, you never forget. It is quite the workout for anyone looking to get shapely thighs in thirty days. Keep in mind that you can't coast.


5. I am obsessed about keeping my finger nails cut so short they look like I bite them. I have worn out nail clippers. Think about that for a sec. When is the last time you had to replace one for being dull rather than for being lost? I don't like seeing the part of my nail that does not have any skin under it. The color change is odd and must be removed immediately. I'm not comfortable when I can feel the edge. Just talking about this has gotten the clipper out of my computer desk drawer (which is not to be confused with the clipper in the desk drawer right behind me or the one in the dresser drawer or the one in the bedside table or the one on my keychain) and some nail honing will commence as I think about #6.


6. I once used an episode of My Three Sons to cure a physical ailment. I had just adopted Mao, the senior cat in the household, and it was obvious I had a cat allergy, complete with sneezing and watery eyes. She was the first cat to own me and I had no idea I might even be allergic. I let her live with me because she would have been sent to the pound otherwise and adult cats are not often adopted. So to prevent euthanasia, I brought her home and the sneezing began. Anyway, do you remember the Sons episode when the youngest son—was his name Bobby? (weren't all youngest tv sons Bobby or Beaver?)—developed an allergy to his mongrel dog Tiger? One suggestion given on the show was for the boy to bury his face in the side of the dog and breathe deep. The theory, according to this incarnation of Marcus Welby, was that the huge influx of particles causing the allergy would overwhelm the immune system and not kill the victim but somehow snap the system out reacting that way. In short: poof! the allergy would be no more. Well, I grabbed Mao, breathed deep while my nose was buried in her pelt and went through an entire box of tissues mopping up snot and tears—and then never sneezed again. It's crazy but it's true. YMMV. There are now four cats in the house and we all get along just fine.
   


7. My most fervent fantasy is for humans to evolve a, uh, feature that would control the ever-increasing population of the species. Since we can't seem to exercise any control on our own, I'm hoping mother nature steps in and does it for us. Sure, I'll take the telekinesis gene development while Gaia is tinkering with our DNA but something to slow down our viral growth would be nice. I'm not talking Children of Men extremism where the entire species goes inexplicably sterile at once but applying the reproductive brakes could go a long way to solving a lot of society's ills. And don't even give me the economic doomsday argument against this fantasy of mine. First give me an example of a economic theory that doesn't involve constant insane growth then we'll talk.

Tags of seven people whose blogs I read. Well, I don't read seven other blogs (should this lack of blog reading have been included as a weird thing on the list above?) I read Kfluff's constantly and Amelia's occasionally. That's about it. All my other internet stops are gadget sites or design sites or game sites or comic sites. Nothing too insightful or interactive. So I'm going to change this rule a bit and encourage Frenchie to start a blog. The same goes for DrStudentAffairs/StudentLife (you know who you are) and Rainbow Hemp. Jump in, folks, and add to the conversation.

I would love to hear from other folks who are reading this and let me know how you landed here. The clustermap you see somewhere in the left margin shows hits from the middle of America and across the pond in England and Europe and Australia and others. How did you manage to find this blog among all the blogs on all the computers on all the planets with sentient life? Leave a comment and introduce yourself.