Enough about me; what do you think about me?

I know some of you are wondering where all those posts you demanded are, and I promise I'm working on (at least two of) them.

But right now, I need a little help.

I'm filling out a form that you absolutely don't need to know or speculate what it's for, and it asks a bunch of questions that are difficult for me, because they are ridiculous.

So, I would like you to answer them for me. And I mean "for me" in many senses: "for" as in "on behalf of," but also "in support of" and "not against."

Because, really, who better to answer these questions than my family, closest friends, and a handful of strangers who only know what I choose to display on the Internet?

Here it is, for those of you who have some time and energy to spare:

• What am I most passionate about?
• What are the three things I am most thankful for?
  
• Other than my parents, who has been the most influential person in my life and why?
• Other than my appearance, what is the first thing that people notice about me?
• What are five things that I "can't live without?"

Needy

This is one of those memes that goes around, and I thought I'd done it already, but now I think maybe not. You Google your name and "needs," and post the first five answers that come up. Mine (using my real first name) go like this:

• [bzzzzgrrrl] needs a home.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] needs to be bonked.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] needs a haircut.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] needs braces.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] needs tacos.

Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Right?
Oh, no.
So much better when done with "does not need."

• [bzzzzgrrrl] does not need the help of any paintings or pictures to make the varied combinations of colors and designs on her wall hangings.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] does not need a bigger penis, doesn't play video games, hates ringtones, and despises advertising of any kind.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] does not need permission to enter her own official residence, as she is the president's wife.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] does not need added income, and the foundation fees will not be a large part of her annual income.
• [bzzzzgrrrl] does not need to sleepwalk to express herself.

So NOW what'll the little lambs eat?

Remember this, a month and a half ago?
Here's today:

That's right, sports fans. Today, a guy in a cherry picker came and cleared the ivy off my window (and, presumably, the windows of others in my building). I smiled at him and said, "thank you!" cheerily, but he either ignored me or couldn't hear me over the entire cacophony of the cherry picker.

I suddenly feel very exposed.

Three things you should read on the Internet — by me

Remember how I promised you a twist this week? No? I did it yesterday. Are you worried about this memory loss?
Anyway, here's Whimsy's twist, for which I give her a great deal of credit and no blame whatsoever, because I am apparently a much bigger showoff than her other blog friends:

I want everyone to pick three of their OWN posts. Not a time for modesty, folks. I personally think that we're our hardest critics, but also, we know when we've actually done something pretty well. I want to get some recommendations from you, about you. Three of your favorite posts. Doesn't matter WHY they're you're favorites - but I'd like to hear your reasons too, if you'd like. Otherwise, how's THAT for an easy blog post: here are three things I wrote and I feel pretty good about them. The end.

So, here are three things I wrote and I feel pretty good about them:

1. Great Interview, Batman. This is the one where I am a big cheat who wants three more wishes. I do love this one (thanks, PMJG), but I admit it's mostly on the list because it's a pretty good intro to CMC, and because it has links to lots of other posts.
2. Ice tongue. I am not sure whether it is funnier if you know the players or don't. Either way, you know, it's what we do best around here: funny stories at my expense.
3. Rick Rolling. This is not as funny as it sounds like it'd be from the title. It is very long, and very unfunny. But also, I think, worth reading.
   

Tidbits! (Now, with more tid!)

So, the last post I wrote was last Friday, when I steered you to three things on the Internet to read. Tomorrow, I'll do the same thing (with a twist, special thanks and much credit to Whimsy).

And I cannot bear the thought that the only posts I have written lately are the posts specifically meant to help others combat blog-drought.

I have thought of two potentially excellent topics for essays this week, but they are both about plumbing the depths of my insecurity, and they are not at all funny, so they'll go somewhere that is not City Mouse Country.

So here are some of the boring and trivial things I have been thinking about this week. If you're also my Facebook friend, some of these things will sound familiar. But not all!

• There has been a Society for American Florists for 125 years. I also learned this week that its charter was signed by Grover Cleveland, and that it has its own chapter of the United States Code, 36 USCS § 200101 et seq.
• I think 17 minutes is just too long for a straight dance sequence in a movie, even if it's the most brilliant dance sequence in cinematic history, especially if it's not related to the plot and happens right before the end of the movie.
• My niece? Is still, like, crazy-cute. That is perhaps to be expected, as she is a baby, and her parents are both adorable, and I am very biased.
  
• Baby head smell, which captivates everyone, apparently, has no magic powers over me.
• My blog robot name is B.Z.Z.Z.Z.G.R.R.R.L.: Biomechanical Zeta Zombie Zoned for Zealous Gratification, Rational Repair and Relentless Learning. Which, right? I'm not sure how I feel about the zombieness, but I am all for zealous gratification, rational repair and relentless learning
• I found out that all this time I've been trying to remember who went to that one concert with me? It was Duana.
• Weekly 25¢ ice cream is the greatest thing a place of employment can do for its employees. It builds community, and is also delicious.
  
• Starting this weekend, I will have a roommate for the first time since summer 2000. It's only for about five weeks, but still, it'll be interesting. Expect posts about that.

So, here's your job: What do you wish I would post about? That's how I'm going to get past any potential droughts. You're going to be your delightful and bossy selves. What do you people want from me?

Three things you should read on the Internet

(For Whimsy's Three for Friday):

• iPhone Cinema from I Blame The Patriarchy (and the followup)
• 15 Creepiest Vintage Ads of All Time from Retro Comedy
• In fact, I have her edit my posts from dooce

Have fun, kids.

Wait, what?

My parents are priests. Have I mentioned that before? Anyway, they are.

So there was something extra-special about this post for me, which may be the greatest thing I have read all week (except for what you wrote, of course. You are my special favorite.).

I love my parents very much, but did not know that one of the things I have to be grateful for is that they have never asked me to keep a giant porn collection safe while they went on vacation. I am grateful for that, indeed.

Clotheslined

This progression to country mouseness is a gradual one. At some point this June, I decided to let environmentalism and the weather justify temporary laziness. There is no earthly reason, I thought, to waste power drying clothes when I could just hang them out on the line.
Those of you who do not live in the Northeastern U.S. may not know that we had approximately a thousand days of rain up here. Therefore, I could not possibly do any laundry.
Eventually, I ran out of clothes, and did just one load with the dryer.
Then, like a miracle, it got sunny. The old joke up here is that New Hampshire has two seasons, winter and the Fourth of July, and boy howdy, did it feel true this Fourth. Glorious indeed.
So on the fifth, I did laundry, and brought it out to hang on the line.
But you know how, in the fabric-softener commercials, crisp white sheets and bright-colored shirts all snap in the breeze? Yeah, some of us separate our colors when we do laundry. And some of us, having been city mice, have a lot of dark clothing. So some of us now have the gothest-looking clothesline in the universe, right out there for all the neighbors to see, and, no doubt, mock.
"Now?" you say. "Why haven't you brought in your laundry from July 5 yet?"
Because obviously there have been enough soaking rainstorms since then that every dark piece of clothing I won has had enough opportunity to almost dry before getting soaked again, repeatedly.

Gender deconstructionism

It will surprise exactly none of you to know that the phrase "crying like a little girl" irritates me. For many, many reasons, which we can get into in the comments if anyone is interested. Which nobody is.
That said, I want to parse whether the phrase even makes any sense as anything other than sexism.
So, parents of (or folks with experience of) young children of either sex:

• Is it your experience that little girls are more likely to cry than little boys? Less likely? The same likely?
• Is it your experience that little girls are more likely to scream than little boys? Less likely? The same likely?
• If "more," is it your opinion that this is true before the heavy-duty socializing efforts occur? Like, before the child has friends who are capable of peer pressure, or adult role models who are enforcing gendered behavior?
• Is it your experience that when little girls do cry or scream, it is in a less-tough way than little boys?
• If so, before the child has friends who are capable of peer pressure, or adult role models who are enforcing gendered behavior?

Honestly interested in answers here; I'm not trying to be argumentative. Yet.

Seeing stars

If any of you readers are actually bloggers who get stuck from time to time (or if you're just bored on the Internet a lot), allow me to recommend Five Star Friday to you. People nominate great blog posts, and then those great blog posts all get sent out in one big roundup weekly.
I do not always have time to read them all, but I find that, when I do, I am almost always inspired to write more, and better.

You're so lucky I'm around

Although I watch a lot of DVDs (and now, thanks to Todd, Blu-rays), I am not generally a consumer of romantic comedies, for many reasons. I only rented Dan in Real Life because I didn't know that's what it was, and I am a sucker for both Steve Carell and advice columns.
But, having viewed it, I gotta say, I loved it.
Things I loved about Dan in Real Life:

• The cast. I was going to try to single people out, but it's a big cast, and a phenomenal one. Full of, "Oh, it's that guy!"
• Norbert Leo Butz. OK, I really wasn't going to single people out, but I have a soft spot for him, because I saw him on Broadway in Wicked, where he was delightful. He is also delightful in this film.
• The family dynamic. In some ways, this is a movie about a guy who feels left out of his own family, kind of. I discovered from the special features that the rest of the cast had a week of rehearsal without Steve Carell. It works.
• The line, "You are a murderer of love!" You think that might be the best line ever, certainly the best line possible in this film, and then, a few minutes later, it comes up again, better.
• My own reexamination of "Let My Love Open the Door." God, what a perfect song. Go listen to it right now.

Baby love

My sister had her baby late Tuesday. Which is pretty awesome. She is my first niece, my parents' first grandchild, both her parents' first child. She is amazing and perfect and tiny.

So amazing, in fact, that on Wednesday afternoon, as my parents and brother-in-law crowded around my sister and this stunning infant, my father proudly declared her to be the most beautiful baby he'd ever seen.

Someone (OK, I) pointed out that it would perhaps have been more tactful not to say that in the presence of the people who've grown out of the only other two newborns he's ever seen.*

Whatever, though. We all got what he meant.

(*- Realized in typing that that I can think of a fourth newborn he's known. Oh, well, glad to complete the circle of insult by sharing it here with Cousin Mouse.)

I scream, you scream

I did not grow up in a neighborhood with an ice cream truck.
Where we lived when I was in high school, the truck would come along once in a while. Its tune was weird to the point of creepy. I best approximated it by playing three different music boxes, all playing different songs, at the same time.
Then, no ice cream truck for nearly twenty years.
My current neighborhood has an ice cream truck, with discernible tunes, but again, they're weird. a friend once noted that it was playing the theme from Love Story. I was just impressed that she could identify the theme from Love Story, as she was born fifteen years after that movie came out. But she was right, and I've heard it play a number of other weird tunes since.
Tonight, I jotted down what I could make out as the truck made its rounds:

• "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"
• "Deck the Halls"
• "Clementine"