Category Archives: getting to know you

GI Joe told me knowing was half the battle, so here, let me half-equip you for war.

Well! Things seem to have calmed down now. We all relaxed? Good, good. Take a seat. No, no. Not there. That’s where Dumbcat likes to sit. And also vomit. Also not there, as that’s where Newcat sits, and she’ll totally wolverine-attack you if you attempt to sit near her. She’s not overly polite, that cat. There are some refreshments around here somewhere. Mostly, refreshments are half a box of Ritz cheese crackers I got tired of before I finished and a pitcher of sugar-free fruit punch, but hey, no one’s allowed to complain about free snacks. Free’s free. If you’re starving and hate those things, you should have packed a granola bar or something. NO, you can’t have my Finnish chocolate or my Flake bars, those were gifts from some of my most beloved people and I’m saving them for a day I’m really sad. I am not remotely sad enough today to break into my gift-chocolate from foreign lands, therefore I cannot eat them. And neither can you. HANDS OFF, GRABBY MCGURK!

Don't even think about it, sunshine. MINE. ALL MINE.

Don’t even think about it, sunshine. MINE. ALL MINE.


Old people (wait, you’re not OLD. That sounded TERRIBLE. People who have been here all ALONG, I should say. Please forgive. I did not mean to malign your age), you are more than welcome to read along today. This is not exclusionary toward you in the least. I LOVE YOU ALL. Also, I KNOW you’re waiting for part two of the monthly stats posts. It’s coming! Tomorrow! As long as I have time to write it tonight! Promise, promise!

New people, you are most likely here for one of two reasons: a., you popped on over from reading my guest post on Black Box Warnings earlier in the week, or b., you’re here because I was Freshly Pressed on Wednesday. If it’s the former, you probably have an idea what you’re in for. You are most likely a fan of Le Clown and his most wonderful antics, and know that if I’m part of that gang (aw, am I part of that gang now? I like that so much. That’s a gang I totally want to be part of. Do I get nunchucks? Or, as they called them in my college “list of things you can’t bring with you” brochure, “chukka sticks?”) that I’m not going to be overly reverent or serious most of the time.

Ooh, these are the BEST chukka sticks because they are SUPREME.

Ooh, these are the BEST chukka sticks because they are SUPREME.

However, the people here from Freshly Pressed – well, first, hello. I’m so glad you’re here, I’m so glad you read the post and you connected with the post and are following and reading and commenting…but I have to pre-apologize.

I am very seldom as serious as I was in that post. I feel like you need to be informed as to what goes on here, for your own safety. And possibly also sanity.

It happens, sometimes. Sure it does. Sometimes things upset me and I rant for a bit. But mostly, we talk about the following things here:

  • My dad, who thinks everything is a government conspiracy and makes me laugh harder than anyone
  • Various members of the animal kingdom, heavily including my cats, Dumbcat and Newcat (whose real names cannot be revealed because they are in the Witness Relocation Program for cats because they saw a mob hit that one time, I can’t say any more for their own safety)
  • My friends, who are all perfect and amazing in various ways
  • Theater
  • Books
  • Television
  • Things that make me snort-laugh (this is a very broad category)
  • My nephew, who is the most brilliant and amazing human on the face of the earth
  • Current events that make me laugh and/or stabby
  • SCIENCE! (More on this in a bit)
  • Things I actually leave my house and do
  • Anything else that I feel like blabbering on about on any given day

As you can see, these are not very serious topics. So I feel terrible that you’ll be waiting and waiting for me to start talking about something all serious-like and keep getting posts about “ZOMG YOU GUYS ONE TIME I WAS WALKING TO MY CAR AND I HEARD SOMEONE PLAYING ‘DANNY BOY’ ON BAGPIPES IN THE PARKING LOT BUT I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT WAS COMING FROM.” (That’s a true story, by the way. It happened just the other day. It seemed to be coming from the Vo-Tech school behind our building? If that’s the case, bravo, Vo-Tech school, you seem to be teaching your students bagpipery! And it was also very sad and mournful, which is my favorite type of music to randomly hear in the parking lot.) (SIDE NOTE! Is it politically incorrect to say Vo-Tech school? I think it has a name now but I don’t know what it is. Here in New York we call it the BOCES but it’s not the BOCES, that’s just who runs it. It’s a vocational technology school where they learn things like hairdressing and car repair. Hence, vo-tech. Apologies if I’m offending anyone. Can you even imagine if I offended everyone like the first DAY and everyone left? I’d totally have lost Freshly Pressed, right?)

I found this on the internet. What is this? What does this mean? Is it a poster for a musical or something? I am perplexed.

I found this on the internet. What is this? What does this mean? Is it a poster for a musical or something? I am perplexed.

So, anyway. I decided there are some things you probably need to know about how things are around Lucy’s Football before you get confused and/or go running off into the night because that would be dangerous for you. Because I’m nothing if not helpful. NOTHING, I say. You can also get a lot of these from my Frequently Asked Questions page, if you want. But I’ll reiterate. Like a boss.


I use ZOMG and yo a lot. Also all-caps. And SIDE NOTES. I also make up words. I’m kind of…I guess you’d say stream-of-consciousy? This annoys some people and charms others. I get it. This is how I am in real life, too. And in real life it charms some people and annoys others as well, too. That’s nice, though. That way I can weed out the people that don’t find me charming. I mean, who wants to hang out with people that don’t find them charming, I ask you?

I write blog posts that are a lot longer than your daily RDA of blog-reading. Someone told me once that you’re supposed to publish no more than 1,000 words a day. At ABSOLUTE most. Or you’ll have no one reading. Well, I get that. I do. However, I have a billion things to say. And I’ve tried writing shorter posts? But it doesn’t work. All these words just NEED TO BE SAID. So, yeah. I’d probably have more readers if I wrote shorter posts? But then I wouldn’t be me. So where do I draw the line, really?

So many delicious words. SO MANY.

So many delicious words. SO MANY.

I am unabashedly geeky about a lot of things, and when I love something, I really, REALLY love it. I don’t understand living life in a middle gray area. I am all about going big or going home. If I love someone, I really love them. (The opposite is also true. If someone is my enemy they are DEAD. TO. ME.) I go all-out for things and people and ideas. And I’m very geeky about things I love. And I’m not at all embarrassed about this. Again, this is off-putting to some people. However, the people that aren’t put off by this – well, those are my people. And I love them more than I can even describe. And would jump in front of a herd of stampeding rhinoceroses for them, if the need arose. (Is that need going to arise? Let me know, so I can change out of my nice work clothes.)

Don't you trample my friends, rhinoceros!

Don’t you trample my friends, rhinoceros!

I have a SCIENCE FELLOW! Sometimes we like to talk about science here at Lucy’s Football. In those cases, we are very lucky; we have someone who can set us to rights. (This is good, because as much as I love it, I know very little about science.) Yes! It is true! This might be the only blog named after a Peanuts character that has its own Science Fellow. And our Andreas is not JUST a Science Fellow. He’s the BEST Science Fellow. Once in his scientific work he discovered and named his own SPECIES OF CREATURE and there is a BOOK about it. I’m not even kidding about this. Also, he’s in charge of making sure things are pretty around here (he did my beautiful blog redesign at the beginning of the year, isn’t it lovely?) and is one of my dearest friends and a wonderful blogger AND I met him in REALLY REAL LIFE earlier in the month. I know! And he is from FINLAND! And next year I am going to Finland to see HIM! And we met through TWITTER! I know, the internet is wonderful, right?

In real life, I tend to cuss like a sailor, but here, I don’t much at all. I know. It seems foolish. The interwebs are full of all the swears. You don’t know who’s going to read your blog. It could be a kid. IT COULD BE MY NEPHEW SOMEDAY. Kids can see the cussing elsewhere. Sometimes I can’t help myself, and I bust out with the swearing. But usually I try to behave myself. FOR THE CHILDREN. And for the world, because there are enough ugly things out there, and I don’t feel I need to be all cussy all the time, you know? Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

That being said, I have no problems with cussing, I do it all the time in real life, and I will never edit your comments for being cussy, unless they're offensive.

Hee, Waffle House!  (The above being said, I have no problems with cussing, I do it all the time in real life, and I will never edit your comments for being cussy, unless they’re offensive.)

Things make me stabby on a regular basis. Examples of things that make me stabby: racism, sexism, the war on women currently occurring, anyone who thinks gay marriage will put an end to the world as we know it, Fox News, people who are not kind to their (or others’) children, bullying in any form, Tom Cruise, garlic, when fruit is hidden sneakily in a dessert item and you don’t know it’s there until you bite down into it and you don’t have a napkin to spit it into, the term “fro-yo,” when people SAY “LOL” instead of actually LAUGHING OUT LOUD and it doesn’t save them any TIME and I don’t GET it, gay-bashing in any form, when anyone is cruel to any of my friends at all in any way, when people expect you to let them into traffic when they haven’t waited their turn like everyone else and then they flip you off if you don’t do it cheerily enough as if they weren’t the line-budger, terrible spelling and grammar, people who are shouty about religion, animal abuse, the scanner I have to use at work that jams every third page, and flip-flops.

*shudder* I don't like things between my toes, and I don't like feet, and I don't like the noise they make.

*shudder* I don’t like things between my toes, and I don’t like feet, and I don’t like the noise they make.

However, on a whole, I think the world is a beautiful and magical place, and it continues to amaze and surprise me daily. I think that one speaks for itself.

Oh, probably you want some background on me, yeah? I have three jobs; one’s in finance, one’s in customer service, one’s in journalism. I have two cats. I have zero romantic conquests. I live in a lovely little place in an amazing city in a wonderful area that I love very much. I have been working in community theater for most of my life but will be taking an extended hiatus starting in June. I wrote a book that was published last year. I write here, and for Insatiable Booksluts, and other places, when they’ll have me. I have Twitter and a Facebook fan page and all those good things; links to such are in the Frequently Asked Questions section. There’s an email address where you can reach me for things if you need to do that at the bottom of the blog. I live on the internet when I’m not sleeping or working, but not as much as I used to because of reasons. I have the best friends in the entire world and sometimes I cry because they are so wonderful and I never thought I’d have friends like this in a million years. (I was terribly bullied as a teenager, moving on.) I’ve been blogging for a year and nine months. I used to blog every day but had to cut back because I actually wanted to have a bit of a life, which I’ve been enjoying very much. I laugh a lot. I also cry a lot. Sometimes both at the same time. I have VERY BIG EMOTIONS. I feel huge happinesses and huge sadnesses. I love both terrible movies like Billy Madison and wonderful movies like Magnolia. I adore live theater and am REALLY into musicals. I really like girly things like soap, perfume and necklaces, but I hate girly things like skirts and high heels. I’m a gigantic glasses-wearing enigma.

"This happens. This is something that happens."

“This happens. This is something that happens.”

Mostly I am very silly here. If this disappoints you, many apologies. I try to write WELL, but it’s mostly silly with some moments of seriousness. If you like that, I’m glad. And welcome! If you don’t, I’m sorry, I did not mean to mislead you with the Freshly Pressed thing.

Still with me? Good, great, grand, awesome. So glad you’re here. Do you have questions? Your turn. Ask ‘em in the comments. (People who’ve been here all along, you can ask questions, too! If I don’t like them or don’t want to answer them publicly, I’ll just delete them. Or email you. Sound fair? Sure it does. If it doesn’t, don’t even tell me, I don’t want to know.)

Also, happiest of happy weekends to you all! May your Easter baskets contain only the best of treats. None of those awful eggs with a waxy candy shell and that terrible sort-of-marshmallow crap in the middle that taste like candy just gave up on being good in your mouth.

(As you can see, this is a typical Amy-length post. Welcome to the Thunderdome, my little lemon drops.)

You don’t pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger, and you don’t mess around with Jim.

I was totally TAGGED sort of kind of this is SO EXCITING ZOMG!!!

Jim tagged me and said very nice things about me that may or may not be true AND I get to answer QUESTIONS about my PERSONAL LIFE AND TIMES. I know, right? Total win for ALL THE PEOPLE. Well, I don’t know, maybe some? Fine, just me, then. WIN FOR ME.

Well, he didn’t tag me, per se. He “linked” me. I think Jim feels as I do about tagging; who wants to bother people? I don’t want to bother people.

However, I love to answer questions. I did inform Jim, however, that I would most likely not be answering these WELL or CORRECTLY or IN ANY SORT OF ORDER and that probably I would go off on a lot of tangents. Jim said that sounded unlike me, and that it’s “usually totally blueprint for (me).” That made me laugh so hard I snorted, and I favorited that tweet because I’m fairly sure that I’m going to want to go back and look at it a number of times and think, “wouldn’t that be a funny alternate reality to live in, one in which I was all by-the-book-ma’am HA HA HA.”

So! Here we go with the question-answering! Now, Jim said that I only had to answer 11 of these? But where would a person get with doing only the MINIMUM required of them? Would that person be VALEDICTORIAN OF THEIR HIGH SCHOOL, Jim? Would that person be TOTALLY THE MIDDLE SCHOOL SPELLING BEE CHAMPION OF UPSTATE NEW YORK UNTIL SHE LOST TO SOME OTHER KIDS, Jim? Would that person be THE MOST UNRULY-HAIRED, CRAZY-EYED BLOGGER IN ALL THE LAND, Jim? No. No, she would NOT. Therefore, I will answer them ALL. Unless I don’t feel like it because the answer is none of your damn business or I get bored and something else shiny comes along, we’ll see how that goes.

1.         If you had the choice to know when you were going to die or not to know, what would you choose?

I would not want to know. I just want to die. Quickly and painlessly. QUICKLY. Stress on that, please. There is NOTHING more terrifying to me than having a stroke and being trapped and unable to communicate and people would be touching you all day and you couldn’t get away from them, or read, and you know they’d leave your television on Fox News all damn day long. I want to die quickly and out of the blue and then I want to be cremated and I don’t want anyone to look at my gross dead body with too much lipstick on because I find that so, so morbid I can’t even tell you.

2.        What is the one food you could not live without eating ever again?

Food? We’re talking about food, and not beverage. Because if it’s beverage, obviously water. Because otherwise you would die dead. Um…could not LIVE? Are we talking, like, seriously, or metaphorically? Seriously, I suppose you need a balanced diet to live, right? So, something with all the food groups in one place, like stew, or something, wouldn’t that be the best choice? I mean, I don’t really like stew all that much but whatever. Metaphorically, I’m going to have to say chocolate. No day is complete without some, seriously. That made me sound like a total hormonal woman but there you have it.

3.        Where is the one place you most want to visit on the planet and why?

Maine. I’ve always wanted to go and have never gotten a chance. I want to visit the coast and I want to skulk around Stephen King’s house and I want to eat lobster rolls. You thought I’d say somewhere fancy, didn’t you? I’ve already been to Europe. It’s crossed off. And California. So, Maine, then. Also, I do so like that this question specifies “on the planet.” Otherwise, my answer SO would have been Uranus. YEAH I SAID URANUS.

4.        How many times a day do you say a swear word? 

How many times are there in a day? You really need to click on Jim’s blog link up there. He made a bar graph. It made me laugh for like twenty minutes. I say a lot of cusses daily. Mostly shit. And the eff word. I don’t use it a lot on here because THINK OF THE CHILDREN but in real life I say it a LOT lot. Not in front of THE CHILDREN, though. In front of THE CHILDREN I say “Oh, shoot.” Or “oh, man.” I really try not to cuss around THE CHILDREN. Luckily, I am not around THE CHILDREN often, so it’s not really an issue. (Also, were you aware that children, such as The Nephew, totally repeat EVERYTHING? It is true. You have to be so careful about EVERYTHING you say. Or your adorable 2 ½ year old best little guy is going to start calling his Thomas the Tank Engine a douchecanoe.)

5.        What is the most absurd phobia you have and why? 

I’m freaked out by clowns, but that’s a pretty normal phobia. Everyone hates those grim, makeup-wearing death creepers. I’m not really all that scared of a lot of things. I’m pretty practical, all-told. Things jumping out at me, but honestly, who likes that? Weirdos, that’s who. I can’t think of an answer to this one. SORRY I FAIL.

6.        If all A’s are B’s. Not B, therefore not A. How does this relate to the greatness of cheese? 

WHAT THE HELL DOES THIS EVEN MEAN. Cheese is awesome. The MOST awesome. One of my favorite foods of ALL TIME. I don’t understand the first part of this question. It seems foolish and like you’re wasting my time. Are you wasting my time? What makes you think you have the right to do that? Bite me, QUESTION, you time-wasting bastard.

7.         If you could go back in time and undo one event, what would it be and why?

The answer to this question is private and none of anyone’s business because it relates to my family. I could make up some sort of cutesy-cute ha-ha answer but it would be a lie. So, nope. Sorry, questions.

8.        A frat boy, a cougar and a priest all walk into a bar. Which do you make fun of first?

My friend C., who was a member of a fraternity in college, says I’m not allowed to SAY “frat” because it’s disrespectful. His statement was, “you wouldn’t call your country a ‘cunt’, would you?” I will never forget that statement because it made me laugh and laugh and I’m pretty sure I answered with, “Yeah, I might, actually.”

Why are these people and/or animals walking into a bar? I wouldn’t make fun of any of them. I would be respectful to the priest, ignore the frat boy (sorry, C.) and stare longingly at the cougar, wanting SO BADLY to pat it on its head but knowing it would claw and eat me if I tried. So, d., none of the above.

9.        Fried or deep fried?


10.      Who are some blogs you would recommend we read cuz you think they are hilarious/awesome/inspiring/etc?

If you’re reading this on my actual blog, look to the right. Maybe down a little, or up, I don’t know. Either way, there’s a thing called a blogroll. Those are the people whose blogs I read and love. I haven’t updated it in a little while and I have some people to add. I need to do that soon. ANYWAY, I recommend those people. Also Jim, obviously, who tagged me or linked me or whatever. He has at least two blogs that I know of. There might be more. Jim’s kind of a multi-tasker. He said very nice things about me when he talked about me, so now I will return the favor. Jim is a wonderful writer. He is also an amazing dad and husband, and one of the funniest people I’ve been lucky enough to virtually meet. He’s also very intelligent. I dig Jim the most. He’s groovy.

11.       When you’re in a bad mood, what will, without fail, always cheer you up?

The Nephew. Also, penguins.

12.      What would your dream house look like?

It would have a library with one of those Beauty-and-the-Beast rolling ladders in it. Also lots of yard space for rambling and trees and things. And a media room with a gigantic television. And more than three electrical outlets, like my apartment does and each one totally looks like the outlet in A Christmas Story that’s overloaded. And it would have a washer-dryer. And a maintenance person, because that’s why I could never have a house. I could never deal with my own maintenance. You know the roof would blow off or something and then where would we be? Cold and wet with books flapping all over, is where.

13.      Obviously you love blogging, but is there anything about it you don’t like? Be honest.

Don’t like? Um. I wish I had more time to do it. I wish I had more time to read and comment on other people’s blogs. I wish I had started sooner and not put it off for like 43 kabillion years. Otherwise, nope. I’m good.

14.      What do you think your life would look like if you had made a different decision than the one that led you to where you are today?

This is a vague and stupid question. Life is a million little decisions. Even one, done differently, can change the course of your entire life. You can’t pinpoint any one decision that would have changed life as you know it. I’m happy, overall, with where my life is today. Do I wish somehow, magically, I had more money, a happy relationship, all good things? Sure. Who doesn’t want those things? But what if I had those things, and didn’t have my amazing brain, my creative drive, my love of the arts? I’m good, honestly. I’ll stick with what I have and not play the what-if game.

15.      What would your death row last meal be?

It’s embarrassing so I’m not going to share that information with you. Something my mom’s mom makes best, something my dad’s mom made best. There. That’s all you get, you nosy bastard people.

16.      Facebook or Twitter? Why? 

I like them both. Twitter wins, but I like them both. Facebook is good for networking, photos of The Nephew, keeping in touch with far-flung people, and rolling my eyes at people’s stupidity. Twitter is good for total awesomeness and loving people that I will probably never meet as much as I love pretty much anyone. So most definitely Twitter, but don’t take away my Facebook, either. Thanks.

17.       Coke or Pepsi? Why? 

Neither. I can’t drink carbonated beverages. Also, I don’t like cola, and didn’t, even when I COULD drink carbonated beverages.

18.      Name something you don’t think you’ve ever blogged about.

Again, was the person making up these questions on crack cocaine? There are a MILLION things I’ve never blogged about, from the banal to the humongous. The reasons for not blogging about them run the gamut from “they’d bore the pants off my readers” to “they are none of your damn business, Skippy.”

19.      Besides where you currently live, where else do you think you’d like to live?

Nowhere. I’m never leaving where I live. I love New York, I love the Capital District, and I’m here to stay. If I ever left, I’d be heartbroken. There are plenty of places I love to VISIT, mind you (New York City, I’d be glad to take an extended vacation in) but the Capital District owns my heart.

20.      Not considering kids or money or anything practical, what car would you like to own?

One that runs. I don’t care about cars. I’d like one with air conditioning and a CD player and a built-in GPS, too, but as long as it runs, I’m totally not picky.

21.      What is your customary order at Starbucks? 

I’ve been to Starbucks twice in my entire life. I know, are you so shocked? IT IS TRUE. I’m sure I ordered exactly what I order at Dunkin’ Donuts, only in their affected Starbucks-language. Decaf with skim milk and lots of Splenda. Iced if it’s hot out, hot if it’s cold out. I’m not picky about my coffee.

Post 11 things about yourself.

You can bite me twice, darlin’. I’m posting a MILLION things about myself, and you want ELEVEN MORE? Nope. I abstain. YOU CAN’T HANDLE ELEVEN MORE. Also, this one didn’t even have a number. I HATE THIS ONE.

22.      What is one thing people might be surprised to learn about you?

I’m actually not flaky, even though I come across as such here. I heighten that. FOR DRAMA PURPOSES YO. I’m pretty level-headed overall. Also, it apparently surprises the shit out of people when they come to my house that I own over 100 different bottles of perfume. What can I say, I like to have options.

23.      Which three movies would you want with you if you were stranded on a desert island?

Ugh, this is a hard question. I hate things like this, it’s like choosing amongst your children. And the next question’s going to be worse. OK, um…I think you need a selection. A drama, a musical, and a comedy. So I’m going to say Magnolia, Waiting for Guffman, and Moulin Rouge.

24.      Which three books would you want with you if you were stranded on a desert island?

SEE? This one’s WORSE. Fine. The Riverside Shakespeare, because it’s gigantic and would keep me busy and I could act out plays with the crabs and palm trees and shit. A Prayer for Owen Meany, because it’s my favorite book of all time. And…ugh, I guess the collected poems of T.S. Eliot? This question is giving me a migraine. I don’t want to think about only having three books for the rest of my life, I really don’t.

25.      If you could only eat one food for a whole week…what would it be?

WHY ARE YOU NARROWING DOWN THINGS LIKE THIS. I can’t only eat one food for a week. I would get BORED of it and I would DIE DEAD. Fine. FINE. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I’ve been on a kick with them lately. I have the tastebuds of a kindergartener. Lay off already.

26.      If your life was a reality show…what would the name of the show be?

Pratfall! (The exclamation point is non-negotiable.)

27.      Name one thing you hope to accomplish this year.

Not just ONE thing, Mary. A whole HATFUL of things! No, seriously, I’ve got plans coming out my ass for 2012. You want one thing. Um…I’d like to get a couple more of my poems published. That’s just the tip of the fancy-ass iceberg, though.

28.      What is the funniest movie you’ve ever seen?

Tastes change as you get older. When I was a kid, it was Airplane. True story: peed my pants laughing while watching Airplane because I didn’t want to miss anything by getting up to go to the bathroom. It still makes me laugh like a moron. The air traffic controller who makes the map into a pterodactyl is still one of the best moments of anything in a movie, ever. As an adult, it’s Waiting for Guffman, as mentioned above. If you’re a community theater person, you’ll understand.

29.      If your relationship was a movie…what would it be called?

It wouldn’t be called anything. It would be that lonely whistling sound that you hear when looking at an arid desert scene just before a tumbleweed drifts by.

30.      Shower or bath? 

Shower. I HATE BATHS. I believe baths are a torture device where you are soaking in your own filth. They DISGUST me.

31.      Describe your perfect day.

Wake up with no alarm whenever the hell I want; Dumbcat does not jump on my face; leisurely breakfast/read the newspaper; blog; go see a wonderful play; have a nice, quiet dinner with friends; go home, watch something on television, go to bed at a reasonable hour. I KNOW I’M THE MOST LAME. Too much excitement is bad for your liver, I think I read that somewhere. Change scares me.

32.      Who is your favorite character in a movie? Why?

Ugh, like, ever? I can’t…why would you…how can a person narrow something like that down? I can’t. I just can’t. I love so many people for so many reasons. I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples and bastards and broken things. So I love Richie Tenenbaum and I love George Falconer and I love Massoud Amir Behrani and I love Claudia Wilson and I love Donnie Smith and I love Finbar McBride and I love Ennis Del Mar and I love Brendan Frye and I love Barry Egan and I love Merrill Hess. I can’t choose. Dammit, you made me choose my books and food and movies, you can’t make me choose my characters. I’m only human.

33.      Why the hell did your parents give you that name? 

They didn’t. A nurse in the hospital did. My parents were expecting a boy. They had a boy named picked out. Not a girl name. And when I popped out with internal plumbing, they were confused and perplexed. A nurse said, “Amy’s…a nice name?” So, yeah. WAY TO PLAN AHEAD MOM AND DAD.

34.      Is there a song with your name in it that everyone sings as if you’ve never heard the song before? Is it sung by Sting? What about Ewan Macgregor? That’s what I thought.

Usually “Aime” by Pure Prairie League. I never get “Once in Love with Amy” by Frank Sinatra, which I find perplexing. By not singing that to me, are they implying that they WOULDN’T be in love with me, once in love with me? I’m hurt by that implication, I truly am. I’m honestly OK with either. I love them both.

35.      What was your first job? Why did you ever leave?

Babysitting. I left because I went to college. What are you implying, I should still be living at home with my parents, babysitting kids that are now in their mid-twenties and have children of their own? That seems…ill-advised. And honestly a little creepy.

36.      Have you bought a copy of Barcode yet? Why the hell not?

I don’t know what this means. Is it a book? A video game? A phone app? BE MORE SPECIFIC.

37.      Isn’t Handflapper one of the most beautiful women on the Twitter? The orange shirt and martini glass really bring out the red in her lips.

Um…yes? Jim, these questions are odd.

38.      How many is too many when it comes to browser tabs?

On my work computer, as many as I want. It’s fast. At home, I can have two before it freezes up and I have to hard shutdown. IT IS THE SUCKIEST COMPUTER EVER.

39.      Can you name any Jeremy London movies without looking it up? (Mallrats doesn’t count. That just proves you read this post.)

I get the London boys mixed up. I think Jeremy was the one on Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew. Does that count? Also, I didn’t read your post. I GOT THE QUESTIONS FROM JIM.

40.      What is one stereotype people usually associate with you? Is it true?

In real life, I think most people think I’m a bitch.

They’re totally right, yes. Good call, most people.

41.      If you were a tree, what kind of animal would you be?

Oh, for the love of…are you a freakin’ hippie with these questions? I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might make me punch you in the nostril.

42.      Why do papercuts hurt so damn much?

I don’t know. Because you’re breaking your skin and it’s your body’s biggest organ and there’s blood and germs are getting in and it’s the worst? I’m not a scientist.

43.      What is your all-time favorite book?

A Prayer for Owen Meany. Mentioned it above, Slappy.

YAY! I totally win answering all the questions except the ones I didn’t want to answer and the one that asked too many questions and the effing hippie granola sunshine treetop one. I’m not tagging anyone. If you feel like you want to answer these, totally pretend you’ve been tagged, and answer in the comments, or do your own post and copy/paste the shit out of this, I give you ALL THE PERMISSION. Well, not to copy/paste my answers. That would just be the most rude and also lies because my answers would NOT be your answers.

THANK YOU JIM. You are filled with awesomeness and bestestness!

For an imaginary person, she totally seemed realistic. NICE JOB GOVERNMENT.

Happy Saturday! I SAID HAPPY SATURDAY. This is totally the time when you cheer or whoo-hoo or whatever it is you do to get pumped. Oh, fine, I’ll forgo the mandatory cheering. I mean, we don’t work at Walmart. We don’t have to do our team cheer. Shit, I don’t know your life, maybe some of you work at Walmart. I MEAN NO DISRESPECT TO YOU WALMART EMPLOYEES. You have a totally difficult job, that place must be the worst. SPEAKING OF WHICH. My dad used to work at Walmart? Right after he retired? Until he realized it was sucking out his soul through his pores to keep going to work there? And he had to participate in those? Only, well, he’s MY dad, and imagine how I’d respond to a group cheer, and then think about heredity, and you can imagine that totally went over like a lead balloon. He used to stand way off to the side, and when it came time to cheer or whatever they did, he’d stand behind a display so they wouldn’t see he wasn’t participating. I KNOW. Totally nefarious. I approve WHOLEHEARTEDLY.

OK, so as I’m sure the savvy among you have guessed (which, let’s just say it, that’s all of you, I don’t even have any non-savvy readers, I ONLY ATTRACT THE CREAM, BABY) (that totally sounded filthy-dirty, right? I didn’t mean cream like “cream your jeans” or something. I meant like the cream rises to the top. Man, but your minds are just the naughtiest!) I’m writing this Friday night for Saturday publication because I’m working all day Saturday with no internet access then I’m off to see Bebe Newirth and then, well, I’m going to get drunk and fall asleep, so really that doesn’t leave a lot of time for blogging. I know. I LOVE YOU ALL THAT MUCH. I’m totally giving you my Friday night. What’s that? What else was I going to do with it anyway? LISTEN SLAPPY. I could have done a LOT of things with it. Television shows to be watched, tweets to be tweeted, um…dishes to be…washed…FINE THIS WAS A REALLY GOOD OPTION.

I was going to do random-crap Saturday, but as I started writing I realized I totally had enough to say to make this a WHOLE POST. I really have a lot of words in my head. It’s a constant wonder to me that they don’t just run out.

So Friday, I had a very exciting thing happen. A VERY EXCITING THING! I know, right, you probably are thinking, “Pshaw, Amy lives like this totally exciting life, exciting things happen to her ALL THE TIME,” and, well, you’d be right, I mean, I can’t deny how rip-roaring outrageous it is being a very well-known blogger and all with the notoriety and such. I mean, just IMAGINE the exciting nights spent on the couch with my cat! Or PONDER the evenings where I’m tussling with my ancient computer trying to get it to work! IT IS MAGICAL.

Anyway! ANYWAY. So Friday, I was at the library. Speaking of which, I’m totally reading like a sloth lately. I’ve been stuck on the same book for like a MONTH. I am not even EXAGGERATING. And also reading all those horrible plays I mentioned earlier in the week. But the book I’m reading is very long and sometimes good but sometimes I just want to find the author and say, “YOU COULD HAVE CUT LIKE 500 PAGES DUDE” but I want to see what happens so yeah, A MONTH. And I’m like halfway through, I’m not even kidding. There goes my resolution to read more in 2012. But I keep reserving and taking books out of the library. Because someday I’ll finish this book. Right? I will, right? And in the meantime, those books just sit on my shelf. MOCKING ME. With their much-better book faces. DAMN YOU LONG BOOK. Although there was a somewhat-steamy scene with my favorite character today (whew, FINALLY, I love my taciturn Russian spy the most) so it might be looking up. Maybe.

And I checked into the library on Foursquare, because a., I’m totally affected and I think you all want to know what I’m doing like every second of every day because I’m JUST THAT INTERESTING and I know it’s going to either get me killed by a psychokiller or my house robbed one of these days but I JUST CAN’T STOP and b., I’m the frigging MAYOR of the library, I can’t just stop checking IN, who does that? I mean, I can’t lose my library mayorship. I’m the most proud of that. It’s like, you know how you people with children feel about your kids? That’s how I feel about my library mayorship. What? That’s sad and pathetic? SHUT IT JUDGEY. I won’t even tell you if I was being sarcastic about my mayorship equalling your children. I won’t even give you the SATISFACTION.

And then – THEN – (I know, you’re all, um, I was promised something exciting was going to happen? And so far…this kind of blows?) @RozinCP tweeted me that she was RIGHT NEXT DOOR to the library. Right next door! Well! That’s exciting, and look, see how handy Foursquare is, you Foursquare haters? How could she have done that if I hadn’t checked in? SHE COULDN’T SO SUCK IT. So I thought, that’s nice, and hey, listen, I love Roz.

OH! Side note. I totally love Roz? Because she is seriously the most positive person on Twitter. No, I’m totally serious. But not in that annoying, “ZOMG I saw a DOUBLE RAINBOW you guys I wish you were all here so I could give you DOUBLE HUGZZZ!” way, which makes me want to stab you with a protractor. No no no. She’s INTELLIGENT positive. She is supportive toward the people she follows; she is very intelligent; she reads and comments (beautifully, humorously, and grammatically!) on people’s blogs; and she’s just a joy. And listen, you know I hate like, oh, I don’t know, everyone, right? So this is totally a huge endorsement. Also, she approves of my wine addiction and sent me a song on John Lennon’s birthday because she knew I would love it. So if you’re a Twitter person, you should totally follow Roz. She’s the bomb.

So I thought, isn’t that nice, look, Roz is right next door! And I told her we should have lunch, because Roz is one of the Twitter people that I would like to meet in person. I mean, listen, there are Twitter people that should STAY on Twitter, like, ALL THE WAY OVER THERE PLEASE THANKS, then there are Twitter people that should become real life people? And Roz is the latter.

Oh, and also, I’ve mentioned this, but my dad’s convinced all the internet people are imaginary. I’m not sure if he thinks they’re all figments of MY imagination, or if some shadowy government agency has made them all up and is tweeting and texting and blog-commenting and such as them or what, but he’s always saying how you all aren’t real. So you know, there’s that to consider. AND there’s how my brother said you all had one hand.


So first I was a little scared, no, not of Roz, but because I’m kind of a weirdo and was afraid I would scare poor Roz, and also I have ALL THE SOCIAL ANXIETY OMGWTFBBQ, and then I thought, NO AMY YOU ARE AWESOME, so that was totally my pep talk. Listen, I’ll give you a pep talk for free if you need one, you know, if we’re friends. I’m very good at them. I cuss a lot in them, though. Just a warning.

She said she was going in and she was wearing a red coat and a red hat and so I ran out of my car and there was Roz! Ta da ta daaaa! I may or may not have scared her by saying, “RED COAT!” loudly as if I had Tourette’s but we moved past that. She’s very gracious. And we had a lovely but all-too-brief conversation in the lobby of the library (because I had to go back to work…grumble) and probably that was asshatty because I think you’re supposed to be quiet there. I mean, Roz was quiet. Well, that sounds weird. She wasn’t a low-talker. She was a NORMAL talker. I wasn’t quiet, though. I’m totally hyper. You know that, right? I have this one friend that is always shushing me. It’s like a knee-jerk response with her. Even when I’m not being loud. She’ll just go “shhh” when I start talking, like pre-emptively shush me. At first this annoyed me, then I realized, it was done with LOVE. Love for my loudness! Because for all the times she’s shushed me, I’ve never once toned it down. Yet we’re still friends! That’s love, people.

So! I met a real life internet person! And we had a nice chat and she is SO NICE, you guys! She wasn’t even a psychokiller even a LITTLE bit! She was just as nice in person as she is on the internet! I know, that never happens. This might be unprecedented. And listen, I gave her two hugs. TWO HUGS! So that kind of made me like the double-rainbow-hug-asshole above but I was so excited to meet a possibly-imaginary internet person that my default setting was “hug,” apparently. ALL THE HUGS. AND! Listen, Dad! SHE WASN’T IMAGINARY.

Also, when I talked to my dad about this tonight, here was our conversation:

Me: So, I met a Twitter person today. In real LIFE.
Dad: On purpose?
Me: Um…not by accident, how weird would that be? Yes. On purpose.
Dad: Were they a killer?
Me: Well, I can’t speak for everyone she’s ever met, but I’m obviously still alive.
Dad: You can’t just go meet internet people. They’ll murder you.
Me: I didn’t just go MEET her. We happened to be in the same place at the same time. And she wasn’t a killer. AND she wasn’t even imaginary.
Dad: Oh, I don’t know. The government can make you see what they want you to see.
Me: What does that even mean?
Dad: Shh. I think I’ve said too much.

I also totally told Roz I was going to blog about her and she said that was cool with her. So hi, Roz! And thank you for meeting me! I hope I wasn’t too scary! And my hair wasn’t too insane! And my eyes weren’t too crazy! But even if they were, thank you for not being scared of me in person!

Now I KNOW you are all totally jealous and want to meet me in person? And that’s so nice! But you cannot. Because I am a recluse. Yes, like a recluse spider. Only less eight-legged. I mean, local people, you can totally meet me if you come to my theater? For Rumors? Starting February 10th? At Albany Civic Theater? Because I will be stage managing and running the lights and the sound and if you come to my show I will TOTALLY give you AT LEAST two hugs because patrons of the arts deserve at least two hugs. NO NOT YOU DING DONG JOE. You’d just be there FOR the hugs, and listen, that’s totally creeptastic. You get ZERO hugs. And also maybe a restraining order. But the rest of you? Hug city. And you far-away people? Aw, sad pandas. If it makes you feel any better, I promise I’m totally exhausting after like half an hour and you’d wish you never met me at all because it’s like carrying on a conversation with a hamster with ADD. I mean, I SEEM awesome at first, like, oh, OK, here, it’s like, you know when you’re totally wanting something like mozzarella sticks and then you think about them and think about them and THINK about them and then you’re all “I WILL DIE IF I DON’T GET MOZZARELLA STICKS” so then you GORGE on mozzarella sticks and then you’re totally disgusted because they’re kind of greasy and you wonder what you were thinking to begin with? Yeah, I’m kind of like a mozzarella stick? I seem like a great idea at the time, and I can TOTALLY be delicious. Only in teeny, tiny doses. Also, I’m better with some spicy marinara.

Anyway, ROZ! Thank you for making my Friday a happy one and for making my first real life ZOMG Twitter meetup a total success whoo-hoo!

Happiest of weekends to you all! Oh, and remember! Not all the internet people are as awesome and normal and non-killery as Roz? SO USE CAUTION MY LITTLE HOMEMADE MARSHMALLOWS. I don’t want anyone psychokilled and their last words to be “But Amy at Lucy’s Football said meeting internet people was AWESOME so I met SirHumpsaLot in the abandoned parking lot where the Blockbuster used to be…cough…cough…ugh” because I would feel HORRIBLE. So be careful. Rule of thumb? Bring a weapon, unless you’re meeting Roz, or one of my friends, because, other than a few shady characters (contact me privately, I’ll totally give you a list of the assholes) my friends are TOP-NOTCH.

SMOOCHES. Happy day to you all!

You may ask yourself, am I right? Am I wrong?

OK, listen. I’m writing this Thursday night. In half an hour, Community starts. I have to be brief. But I don’t want to leave you in the lurch! That would be the MEANEST. Where would you turn? Porn and smoking the dope and who KNOWS where it would lead!

So I’m taking the lazy person’s way out today and you get one of these annoying “answer questions about yourself” things but not as annoying as the one I did a while ago where it NEVER ENDED. This one’s less painful.

I KNOW, I should totally write this Friday! But work is KICKING MY ASS INTO NEXT WEEK this week. Which is kind of an impossibility but whatever. I haven’t had a chance to go to the BATHROOM in a timely fashion since Monday. IT HAS BEEN INSANE. Also, you know who I want to strangle? People who leave shit until the last minute and then assume you are happy to help them out of their jam. I AM NOT HAPPY TO HELP YOU WITH THAT. In fact? FURIOUS.

So here. I KNOW. I SUCK. Whatever, tomorrow’s post will be all shiny kitten rainbow scratch-and-sniff stickers for you guys. Or maybe not, what do I look like, a fortune teller? Sheesh.


Why are you assuming I am currently a homeowner? That’s kind of presumptuous. This is a totally shitty economy, buckaroo, and it wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility that I live in my car, or in a storage shed on the sly.

To SORT OF answer your question, I would build my FIRST house in New York City. Because I assume I’m totally independently wealthy in this scenario, are we understood? And then I would watch every theater production and concert that my heart desired and read a million books and constantly go shopping and be a lady about town.


A hoodie that’s so worn-out that the elbows are missing, a pair of pajama pants I bought a while ago that are the most comfortable things ever put on the human body, and a ringer tee that says “Reading is Sexy.” I mean, not that I ever wear them all at the same time, though. That would be insane. And I of COURSE don’t wear them OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE. What do I look like, a heathen?


I’m going to assume you’re ok with digital downloads of CDs? Gillian Welch’s The Harrow and the Harvest and The Head and the Heart’s self-titled debut.


Depending on the day, anytime between 6 and 9 a.m. No matter what time I go to bed. I have a little trouble sleeping. Also the cats are assholes and wake me up.


I’m going to be totally gauche and say my George Foreman grill. Listen, I hate cooking meat in a pan or in the oven, HATE IT. The George Foreman grill makes cooking meat easy for me. Is it a totally classy kitchen appliance? No, it is not. But I love it.


I would love to be able to play the guitar. However, I strongly suspect I’m tone deaf. Anyone who’s ever heard me sing, I think, would back that assumption.


I think this is a stupid question for anyone over the age of 5. Who has a “favorite” color anymore? I like green, because it makes my eyes look greener. But I also like black, brown, purple, cream, and blue. So I refuse to answer. I WILL NOT BE TIED DOWN GOOD SIR.


Whatever starts when I turn it on and stops when I turn it off. I also like brakes that work. Air conditioning is nice, but I’ve lived without it for two years so I suppose I can a little longer.


I am not arrogant enough to think I know what happens to us after we die. Best guess? Worm food. But would I like to be pleasantly surprised? Sure. Who wouldn’t?


That’s like asking me to choose my favorite penguin from a crowd of penguins. I LIKE THEM ALL. No, that’s not true, not ALL. But a lot. I like too many to narrow it down. I’ll give you one: Berkeley Breathed’s A Wish for Wings That Work. There. I hope you’re happy.


Fall. Fall, and only fall. The other seasons can bite me. Well, not spring. Spring, you’re ok with me. But the other two are SO NOT OK.


I do. And it’s none of your business. NO, it’s nothing embarrassing. It’s just none of your business.


Oh, FFS, I have no idea. So I took this quiz, because it was on a site that said “All the Tests” and that made me laugh, and it says I want to be a empath. Well, that’s just stupid, I could care less what shit’s going through your mind, because it’s probably so annoying and full of garbage I could just vomit. I don’t know. Speed might be nice, I guess. Flying. Super-intelligence. Ooh, how about a super-human sense of direction? Is that a thing? Because I get lost coming home from a job I’ve had for six years, sometimes. That. I WANT THAT.


Oddly enough, scarves? And paper towels? But only those. When I was in high school, I was so bad at gym they assigned me to help the special ed class at the elementary school with their gym class three times a week instead of attending my own gym class (no, I’m completely serious, I WAS THAT BAD) and then they assigned this other girl, E, to work with me, and E was AWESOME, and the gym teacher who was there was super-old and kind of senile, and one day decided that E and I needed to learn circus tricks because the kids would like those. I don’t know either. So E learned to use two sticks to flip around a third stick and I learned to juggle scarves. The kids didn’t care, by the way. And also, the kids were awesome, and always so happy to see us, and so sweet. It was a lot of fun and I always enjoyed helping out, even if the gym teacher was a little off.


I hate these questions because they get very personal and that’s really kind of none of your business. My paternal grandfather. That’s all you get. Move on, chuckles.


Why, what have you heard? WAS IT GROWLING? Because I am pretty sure I heard growling the other day. SHIT SHIT SHIT THE MONSTER.


Sunday. Only day I don’t work.


Sushi. I don’t care for beef.


Wait, someone’s supposed to “respond?” What do you mean, “respond?” Comment? Do you mean comment? How the hell would I know who would comment first? What a weird question.


Honestly, I don’t know? I did a Google search and this one seemed the least offensive. SORRY. I TOLD you, I am mentally FRIED. This is the best you get from me today.


Daisies, roses, tulips, snapdragons. I’m not picky. Anything but lilies. They smell like death and make me sneeze. Why, are you getting me flowers? Kickass.


Of the day? Or, like, that I’ve ever eaten? SO VAGUE. I like breakfast. But diner breakfast. Greasy awesome diner breakfast. Waffles, bacon, eggs, a big glass of milk. That kind of covers both favorite meal of the day and favorite meal, so are we good?


Perv much? YOU describe YOUR PJs. Wait, don’t, I don’t want to know.


Um. Sorry, I spoiled this one above. I SUCK AT THIS SO HARD.


I love my job! I love all the people there! It is all rainbows all the time! Tra la la! (For an alternate answer, because I don’t want to get fired, and this will confuse anyone but the MOST INTELLIGENT READERS, please take a very long time and unscramble these words: YM BOJ SCUKS SSA)


To not work. Oh, FINE, to work – and get paid for working – in a theater.


“Plan?” Never, I guess. I don’t know that I’ll be able to. Walmart greeting at age 89, here I come!




Something small(ish): visit Maine.

Something bigger: adopt a dog.

(Do I need to cite where I got the title from? How do you not already know? One of my favorite songs ever. “THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE!”)

Ill-Prepared = FOREVER ALONE. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I was talking to a friend the other day about online dating, which intrigues me because I’ve had such weird experiences with it. “What do you talk about?” I asked her. “I don’t know, just stuff,” she said. Well, that’s vague. I pressed for more information. “Getting-to-know-you stuff, I guess,” she said. “Like, you ask each other questions, and get to know each other. And if you like each other, you see each other again. Or if they’re not a serial killer, or whatever.”

Well! This is important information. This is probably something I need to be prepared for! I like to study up for potential test situations. What if I were to go on a date and was not prepared properly with the getting to know you answers? Then I might come across as a serial killer, and a second date might not happen! Catastrophe!


So in order to prepare for this highly-unlikely date scenario, I found a list of potential getting-to-know-you questions, and will now let you have a peek at the answers. Because you might also want to prepare for this scenario! I will totally let you cheat from my answers. I don’t have a problem with sharing my crib sheet with you on this particular test. I don’t want any of my readers to be denied love because they come across as a serial killer. That would be a very sad situation! Everyone deserves love, after all. Well, except serial killers. Because they would probably just eat their significant other anyway, or at least carve them up like a Butterball or something.


Potential Getting-to-Know-You-Questions (with answers that you are free to steal unless your answers are better or less neurotic)


What was your favorite food when you were a child?

I don’t know. Macaroni and cheese, I think. Or grilled cheese. I’m going to say something with cheese. Would this endear me to a potential mate, or make him think I have a problem with saying no to dairy? Honestly, I don’t think I could fall in love with someone who didn’t appreciate cheese.

What’s the #1 most played song on your iPod?

Um. I don’t. Have? An iPod. Sorry. I KNOW. I know this makes me look like a crazy-person Luddite. I’m sorry. I have a weirdo off-name-brand MP3 player that won’t let me take off the songs I loaded four years ago and also eats batteries at a weird rate, and all my music is on my phone so I kind of listen to it there? Also I have a CD player from ten years ago that still works so I use that. And I listen to the radio. STOP BEING JUDGEY.

What is one of your favorite quotes?

I’ll be in my bunk.

I’m pretty sure if I said that on a date, the date would do one of three things: get it, and we’d live happily ever after; get it, and think I was hitting on him and the date would turn pervy, which may or may not be a good thing depending on how the date is going; not get it and be super-confused (in which case we’re probably not meant to be anyway.)

What’s your favorite indoor/outdoor activity?

I’m confused about the wording of this question. Are you asking two questions – what I like to do indoors, and, also, what I like to do outdoors? Or is it an activity I can do in both places? I’m going to say text. You can do that anywhere. Including while peeing. NOT THAT I WOULD EVER DO THAT OF COURSE HOW TOTALLY UNSANITARY.

What chore do you absolutely hate doing?

Cleaning the cat litter. Who likes that? It’s poo. Nothing’s fun about poo. These questions aren’t really making the date all about sexy-time.

What is your favorite form of exercise?

I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it reveals that I don’t care for any forms of exercise at all.

What’s your least favorite mode of transportation?

I don’t know, “least” favorite? That’s an odd thing to ask someone. Burro? They seem like they’d be uncomfortable.

What is your favorite body part?

Nope. Perv territory. Not happening. Wait til I get to know you better, imaginary internet date.

If you could throw any kind of party, what would it be like and what would it be for?

I wouldn’t. I hate parties. And also people. WHY DON’T YOU KNOW THAT ABOUT ME INTERNET DATE.

If you could paint a picture of any scenery you’ve seen before, what would you paint?

Wow, I can NOT paint. Or draw. I am AWFUL. I mean, I could TRY, but it would just be a total blobby mess. Probably Italy, because Italy was gorgeous, but I wouldn’t try. It would be an insult to Italy. They might hire mafia hitmen to come and kneecap me.

If you could choose to stay a certain age forever, what age would it be?

I don’t like this question because every age has pros and cons. I would like to be an age where I don’t have to work, but also don’t have to deal with puberty or high school, but also can drive, vote, and make my own decisions. So I guess 79. Also at that age I plan on having a cane and whacking people with it. Old people can get away with that shit. I’m eagerly anticipating that.

If you knew the world was ending in 2012, what would you do differently?

I’m guessing I would spend less time dicking around on the internet. Also, probably I’d eat more bread. Once the world ends, no one’s going to say “I ate too much bread.” Mostly, they’re going to mourn the fact that they didn’t eat ENOUGH bread. So, yeah, lots and lots of bread, I think.

If you could choose anyone, who would you pick as your mentor?

If someone asked me this question I think I might go to the bathroom and then climb out the window because it’s annoying. I don’t want a mentor. I’ve never had a mentor and it doesn’t sound like something I’d want. What if you disappointed your mentor? You’d be feeling guilty about that for ages. I want a mentor I can’t disappoint. Leif Garrett. I want Leif Garrett as a mentor.

If you could learn to do anything, what would it be?

I have about a kajillion things I’d like to learn to do. I guess probably walk without falling is the most pressing, though. Or eat without dropping food on my blouse. That’s probably not the answer you’re going to want to use on your hypothetical date. Choose something sexier, like riding horses or competitive breakdancing.

If you were immortal for a day, what would you do?

I can’t imagine anything different than I normally do. What WOULD one do if one were immortal for a day? Jump off a building? That seems irresponsible. Go save people from a fire, I suppose, something along those lines, I don’t know. You only have one day, how would you even know where the fires were happening? Are you asking me if I’d SET the fire? I AM NOT A SERIAL KILLER. Stop with your trick questions.

If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to?

I would LOVE to change my first name because there are 8 million people with my same name and also it’s TOO DAMN PERKY and I am NOT a perky person. I want to be something serious. Like Gertrude. You do NOT think Gertrude is going to be all giggles and sunshine. Gertrude is serious and Germanic and you do NOT screw with Gertrude. I approve.

If you were reincarnated as an animal/drink/ice cream flavor, what would it be?

I don’t think you’re 100% on how reincarnation works. Animal, sure, but I don’t think you can get reincarnated as an inanimate object or abstract idea. But I’ll play along, internet date. Animal – some sort of jungle cat. Or possibly the honey badger, because, as you should be well-aware, the honey badger does NOT give a shit. Drink? Again, I must protest because this is not how reincarnation works. Lemonade? I don’t know. That’s foolish. Ice cream flavor? Sigh. Something almondy. You totally lost points with this question. I think you should know that. Like, to the point you’re probably not going to get laid tonight.

If you could know the answer to any question, besides “What is the meaning of life?”, what would it be?

I think it’s funny you don’t allow me to know the answer to THAT question. What are you HIDING, internet date? I guess my #1 question right now is what makes you think we get reincarnated as ice cream flavors? Did you read that in a book? I can’t imagine you did.

Which celebrity do you get mistaken for?

Do people actually get “mistaken” for celebrities? I don’t. At one point, many years ago, someone told me I reminded them of Janeane Garofalo, but she kind of looks weird now and is super-thin and has lots of tattoos so I think that’s not really the case anymore.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Um. I – um. Are you on an imaginary date with someone a lot younger than me?

Fine. A ninja.

What would you name the autobiography of your life?


What did you do growing up that got you into trouble?

I can’t control my mouth, especially when people are being complete and total dumbasses. Case in point: if  you die tomorrow, do you think you might be reincarnated as a gummi bear? If so, what flavor, and who would you want to eat you?

What’s the best/worst gift you’ve ever given/received?

I don’t want to answer all of those so I’ll just answer one. Worst received – lacy underwear by a creepy neighbor when I was WAY too young for sexy panties.

At what age did you become an adult?

You ask a lot of questions about my age/maturity level, and I’m kind of wondering if our date was set up in a To Catch a Predator chatroom. I don’t know. I moved out and on my own at 17. I still feel immature sometimes; sometimes I feel a million years old. You’re creeping me out a little.

Is a picture worth a thousand words? Elaborate.

You know what made this question awesome? The “elaborate” part. It’s like an essay question on the SAT! I did NOT bring my #2 pencil. In this digital age where everyone has something to say about everything: yes, a picture is worth a thousand words. Are they words that are worth SAYING, is really the question. And the answer to that, is no, not usually.

Where’s Waldo?

Um. With your mom?

The best part of waking up is?

Folgers in your cup? You wanted me to say something sexy here, didn’t you. I’m sorry. I don’t think this date is heading in that direction at all.

How now brown cow?

The hell?


Check, please.

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