Waltz In Exile

15 October 2009, 9:08 pm
Filed under: For Fun, Meme, Not at all what I expected | Tags:

I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About myself, strangely. Small Town, Small Times started it by tagging me with this meme, which I swear I’ve been mentally composing for more than a week. (Seriously. Check the permalink date.) Today, Bejewell got all introspecty, too, (sans tags, but damned if I didn’t feel pressured anyway) making me wonder if the universe is trying to tell me something. Or ask me something. Like “Who the hell ARE you?” (The universe, she’s not exactly delicate.)

According to the meme, I’m supposed to tag seven people, and then share seven personality traits. Of mine, I mean. Not the seven people. Which is too bad, because I would be great at telling you about the people I’m going to tag. Not so much with the telling about myself. So I’m twisting up the meme a bit. 1) I’m saving the tagging for last; and B) because it’s a more natural way for me to think about it, I’m not going to tell you who I think I am (no clue, for starters), I’m going to tell you who I know I’m NOT.   Like the sculptor who carves the statue of the horse by chipping away everything that isn’t horse.*

  1. Patient.  Sure, I know all about how it’s a virtue.  It’s just not one of mine.
  2. Rude.  I may occasionally be abrupt, especially with the four year old, but rude?  Not even to unhelpful customer service people or telemarketers.
  3. Able to suffer fools gladly.  Unless you count the smidge of satisfaction I get when I mock them (to myself of course.  See #2)   Please understand, I suffer fools daily.  I can do that.  It’s the “gladly” part that gets me.
  4. High maintenance.  Example: Goat Daddy and I just celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary, and I don’t have any idea what the traditional 13th anniversary gift is.  I got Cheerios.  And aside from the fact that I really don’t like cereal, I was pretty damn happy about it.  Sure, I mocked him for not paying very much attention for the past 13 years (because I promise you, he had never seen me eat a bowl of Cheerios) but it was a great gesture.  Redolent of hunter-gatherer societies.  If the hunters had to forage bare pantries for sustenance.  Maybe you had to be there.
  5. Capable of following rules that make no sense to me.  Fine example: this meme.  I’m “supposed to” tag seven people BEFORE I tell you about myself.  But really, is the world going to end if I do it AFTER?**  I say: let’s find out, shall we?
  6. Low key.  Boring, probably.  Tedious?  Often, I’m sure.  But low key, I am not.  I wouldn’t put myself in the same league as the katana-wielding, wheel-well snake combatant The Bloggess, but I’d probably make her farm team without breaking a sweat.
  7. A finisher.***

Well, it’s a start.  I’ve definitely chipped away large chunks of the “not me” with this list here.  I might have to keep this concept going (Things I’m Not Thursdays, anyone?) until I uncover more of the me.  (This is vaguely terrifying to think about, actually.  I want to table this for now.)

So.  Seven people who are undoubtedly more entertaining and more self-aware:

  1. FADKOG (her meme will undoubtedly be crafted of lyrics)
  2. TrannyHead (who totally owes me [and she knows it] so no bitching or making excuses that you’re busy gestating or moving abroad.)
  3. Post Picket Fence (we’ll all learn something; she’s very macro like that)
  4. The Caffeinatrix (yes, I DO know how hectic your life is; you can have a pass if you want but I’m still counting you in my 7)
  5. Cynical Nymph (put down the book and get to it.)
  6. Becoming Sarah (who is more than welcome to write “Charlotte’s Mama” seven times, so long as she posts pictures, too)
  7. O Mighty Crisis (she’ll probably do something totally creative with Pyramid Man and make me sorry I tagged her)


*Did you see what I did there? With one simile, I managed to elevate myself to artist AND SIMULTANEOUSLY call myself a horse. Obviously, I have a gift.

**Look at me, living on the edge.  You’ll notice I didn’t totally jettison the content of the meme, just the format.  I’m wild, I tell you.

***Bad at endings, I am.  You want a closer, call Kyra Sedgwick.****

****I totally just made this post 1 degree of Kevin Bacon.  See above about my gift.*****

*****Look at that, STST: FIVE of them.


13 Comments so far
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Two weeks ago I bought 60 dollars’ worth of hand lotion and nail buffers from the “Dead Sea” kiosk at the mall, because “Victor,” the obviously gay, doggedly persistent, Russian sales guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. And I don’t like being rude, either.

I don’t know why I felt it was important to tell you that, but I figured, as long as we’re sharing…

Comment by bejewell

Two Thanksgivings ago, I was strolling through Lenox mall (Buckhead) and thinking about getting a massage when I got hijacked by those Dead Sea people. She had me at “Hello” because I didn’t want to offend her. $260 later, I was like “What just happened here?” Two hours after that, I got up the nerve to take it all back. They were so insistent when I tried that if it hadn’t been so much money, I’d probably have just said “Never mind.” I wasn’t rude, but I didn’t fold, either. It was the most horrible retail experience of my life. Then I wrote a paper about it for my Rhetorics class, because I was so proud that I’d been able to have the confrontation at all. So see? I’m the perfect person to tell your Dead Sea story to.

It’s depraved indifference. With books.

Comment by waltzinexile

Ah, we shall see if I get my act together enough to respond to your challenge here (sometimes I’m kind of lame about “getting right on” things–hey, there’s one personality trait right there). I loved what you wrote and the glimpses into who you are!

Comment by Jocelyn

At this point, I’m just excited someone’s even responded with a comment. You’re golden 🙂

Comment by waltzinexile

OMG, I totally feel like the guy from Mad Men this week. I had the perfect comment for this post. It came to me randomly in the middle of the night last night when I was thinking of things I needed to do. This morning: Nuthin. Can’t remember what the comment was. It was genius, but now it’s gone…and I didn’t even drink a fifth of whiskey like what’s his name.

P.S. How’d you like my “job” on LinkedIn? Needed to find a reference so I created an account. Homemaker wasn’t an option. Besides,I can be a freelance writer – right? I just so happen to be an unemployed freelance writer, but those are minor details.

Comment by smalltownsmalltimes

OMQF did I send you the link to the “Work Like Mad Men” thing? I must remember to do so. Or maybe even put it here. You will cry.

Comment by waltzinexile

AHA. Here it is.


It’s depraved indifference. With books.

Comment by waltzinexile

OMG – those ladies are f-u-n. Perhaps I should apply to Double X. I can drink-and-meet them under the table…and I mean, I am a “freelance writer” and all.

Comment by smalltownsmalltimes

You totally made the farm team with just this post.

Comment by Jenny, Bloggess

Do I get a shirt and hat now?!?!

Comment by waltzinexile

Some days I’m really, really rude, but it’s all in my head. I mean it really IS all in my head, but not in that ‘voices are talking to me’ kind of way. I’m also really skinny and fit there, and my bank account is resplendent.

Comment by foradifferentkindofgirl (fadkog)

I am totally with you on #5. I think part of my job desciption should include “Required to adhere to all rules and regulations without question regardless of their complete inability to make the job more efficient.” I would love my job if it wasn’t for the morons running the place.

Comment by Nat

To a point, I’m even able to just say “Well, okay, it’s not how I’D do it, but he’s the boss…” except that said boss often doesn’t clearly express what he means to say. OY.

Comment by waltzinexile

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