Thursday, April 19, 2007
5 Questions, Quarter Life Style
The Journaling major extraordinaire from Quarter Life Crisis is trying out her interviewing skillz on me with these 5 questions. Thanks for the fun, Jenifer!1. Name another blogger(s) you admire and whose quality of writing you aspire to emulate.
While I love Dooce (like everyone else and their dog) and am jealous as all get out that she blogs for a living (just bought a nicer, bigger house on that salary!), I really love the intelligent, witty, smart-ass writing of Mimi Smartypants. She reads voraciously, drinks beer like a fish, adopted a Chinese daughter several years ago and writes openly about figuring out parenthood one step at a time, speaks her mind, is brilliant, confident, and in your face. I admire her tremendously and wish I could write as witty as she does, but doubt I’ll ever come close.
2. There's a twister coming for your house and you have five minutes to grab personal effects before heading to shelter. Not including the obvious - Huz and cats - what three things do you manage to take with you to safety and why?
Okay, I must say how glad I am that you didn't make me list Huz, Cambridge, and Neville because that would have been my whole list. Now if I get the luxury of saving 3 more things?
Hmm.
It sounds crazy, but my bra would make the list right now. The sisters are very heavy and sore of late and though I sleep in a sports bra, I ain't going out in public in one. Ever heard of uniboob (similar to unibrow, but so much worse)? I'm sporting uniboob big time in that bra. So, my underwire bra would have to come with me.
My Nikon D-70 would also make the cut. It’s a really expensive gift from my Dad that I love. I don’t use it much lately but I still aspire to learn all of its tricks and hone my skills. Besides, how else are you going to see the cutest baby on the planet if I don’t have my camera?
Since I couldn’t realistically haul my nice leather couch and chair out on my back, I guess I’d grab my cell phone. It’s a boring answer, but how else am I going to call for help or notify my Mom that I’m okay? Yeah, I’d need my phone.
3. What would you like your last meal to be before dying? Please describe in detail.
Oh man. I’m going to have to cheat on this one, seriously. First, this is really hard because I am a lover of all things food, especially gourmet food. Secondly, I have to account for whether I’ll be in a spicy Mexican or Cuban food mood, or have more of a European palate on the last day of my life. Let the cheating commence.
Option A: Victoria's Ultimate Last Meal: Gringo Version (ala Margot’s, Nashville)
Beverage: Chardonnay
Salad of Grilled Pears, Spiced Pecans, and Gorgonzola with White Balsamic Vinaigrette
Fried Soft Shell Crabs with Lemon Caper Aioli
Beverage: Cabernet Sauvignon
Grilled Veal Chop with Morel Risotto and Merlot Sauce*
Beverage: Coffee
Chocolate Pot de Crème
*While I normally abstain from eating veal because I find it a brutal and unethical way to treat animals (even though I eat meat, I have my limits), since it’s my very last meal I won’t feel guilty in the morning. Morals be damned. I’m dying here!
Option B: Victoria's Ultimate Last Meal: Non-Gringo Version (ala Topolobampo, Chicago)
Beverage: Table side prepared margarita
Crema de Camarones Ahumados: creamy soup of fresh-dug Harmony Valley parsnips, applewood-smoked shrimp, apples, smoky chiles, dry Jack cheese, cilantro
Atún Ahumado a la Yucateca: orange-glazed grill-seared ahi tuna with pumpkinseed “hummus” (sikil pak), roasted tomato-habanero salsa and crispy plantains
Beverage: Table side prepared margarita
Pollito en Guasmole: serrano-marinated, pan-roasted Gunthorp rock hen with guasmole (Pueblan mole of roasted tomatillos and guaje seeds), herby green rice tortitas, pumpkinseed-tomatillo salsa and wood-grilled ramps
Beverage: Coffee
Crepes with fresh raspberries and cajeta (Mexican caramel made from goats milk)
4. Do you worry that your love for your cats will wane the moment you bring your baby home? How do you think they will cope with all of your attention suddenly directed toward another living thing?
Yes. I know it will wane and I’m tying (and failing) to cut the umbilical cord that runs between me and my cats early so that they are used to it and don’t blame the utter lack of attention on the baby. I'm not doing so well with his, however, as I continue to talk to, dress (in cute t-shirts no less)**, and carry them around like they are my babies because, for now, they really are. This transition will be hard on them (and on me, but I'll be so distracted by the kiddo that I probably won't blink an eye about it then). I've asked other parents of cats who brought home a baby how they coped and they suggested tin foil as a means to teach the cat not to jump in the crib or bassinet, so I'll definitely do that once we buy those things. (Supposedly they don't like the feel or sound of the tin under their paws.)
**Just so you know, I've always dressed my pets. I dug through an old photo album last night to find proof. These were our first pets as a married couple:
Feliz, a calico we adopted from a home that didn't want her, a.k.a. Mother Mary.
Enselmo, an orange tabby we adopted from LSU vet school when he was only 6 weeks old (he was so small he fit into my palm!), a.k.a. Burrito Baby.
5. Tell me about your worst fashion faux pas, and if possible, please include a picture of said fashion disaster.
Oh my. Where do I begin? There are so many faux pas I've committed, from hair to glasses to clothes. Let's start with middle school.
Here I am in the height of my tight-rolling pants days. I'm the one on the far left, in case you can't tell. Isn't that HAWT? Way to make my short legs look even shorter!
Then there was middle school cheerleading (I did eventually turn into a hot cheerleader, but my beginnings were humble at best). Check out the size of my glasses - so glad my cheeks could see their way down the halls without tripping. (I'm the top left.)
With the advent of a serious boyfriend (that would be Huz) my appearance improved. Here's us at Homecoming, circa 1993. Look at all that hair (both of ours)!
Later that summer my best friend and I went to Hawaii. We had just been picked up in the hotel elevator and took a picture of ourselves wondering why. I think I see why now. Look at that tan! Look how skinny I was! Those tight shorts have to go, but I'll take the rest.
In 1994 Huz broke up with me and graduated high school, so I reinvented myself and became very hippy. This is when my best friend and I stopped shaving our legs (ouch!) and only shopped for clothes at thrift stores. I'm not too fond of my look that year.
Huz became a hard core fundamentalist Christian and decided he wanted me back. This is my first visit with him after he converted. Needless to say, we both changed our appearance and style for the worse.
Then I became a hard core Christian and wore the baggiest, most modest clothes I could find. I think I look horrible.
Then we moved to Baton Rouge and got Souternized. Down there everyone dresses to the nines for church. I think I look like Frances Swaggart here. Shudder.
So that, my friends, is a taste of my journey through fashion faux pas. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. |
