Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
1. I carry colors in my head. This is, supposedly, a gift rarer than perfect pitch. But I cannot force it. If I go to the store with the intent of matching something, unless I take the something along, my color sense will be skewed by the fluorescent lighting, and the result will be painful. But if I buy something because I find it beautiful, it will go with many things in my closet or in my home.
2. I love algebra, bookkeeping, and logic puzzles. I love online Sudoku. If Brother Fibonacci were here in this room, I would kiss him until his eyes crossed, assuming of course that there is no Sister Fibonacci who would object.
3. I used to think I was clumsy because I was forevermore stubbing my toes. It wasn’t until I had a mime class and had to lip-synch, with choreography, and watched the videotape, that I saw how beautifully I move when I am one with the music.
4. I wish I could grind my voice like some of the really good blues singers do. Maybe when I get my resurrected body, but for now I can no more do it, than I can turn cartwheels.
5. I have written what is possibly the world’s largest collection of p’d-off-wife poetry. All of it therapeutic, though I haven’t needed to read it in years, and some of it very, very good.
6. I went into the waters of baptism a Frank Church Democrat and came out a Goldwater Republican. It took me a couple of years to realize it, but it was the darnedest thing.
7. My surviving toenails embarrass me. They grow at odd angles on my feet, and one of them is rolled up like a Torah, and there is no point in getting eight nails painted when they would resemble tiny jacks scattered on the floor, rather than two rows of perfect pearls. I am a little jealous of my daughters’ normal, healthy toenails.
8. I really like my mouth. People pay good money to have lips like mine, and they’re the one part of me that time and gravity have not had their way with [much]. And I like the fact that, notwithstanding the adversities I have weathered, my mouth still turns up on both ends.
9. I am utterly stunned [gobsmacked!] at how not-anxious I am about the glacial pace of this dating experience with the new guy. It’s as if my comfort zone had been miraculously redesigned.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!