carried away, part 2

One Year Ago:

Hm. Well, the meme has morphed into a tell-all. I realize now that I’m really not honest on this blog much at all. (And I’m sure that’s for the best for everyone concerned. The notion of “worship naked” is an ideal, after all, not my reality!)

But in the spirit of the tell-all, there’s this: One year ago I lost my job — a job I was great at (she says immodestly), and should never have lost (she says frankly), were it not for an certain ambitious old woman more adept at politics than I (she says bitterly), but less bitterly, actually, than a year ago. I have never, ever mentioned it on this blog before. My family would be proud. You could pray for me, if you feel so led. I’ve been a bit paralyzed — which is an understatement, but that’s all I’ll say on that.

On to other things …..

One Day Ago:

— I made Mocha Chip Cupcakes with Mocha Buttercream Frosting. They are simply divine. I’m telling you. When that glorious day comes and we’re gathered ’round for the great feast with Jesus, we will get neither full nor fat. We will get neither heartburn nor gas. We will just get more, MORE, MORE OF EVERYTHING! And when you pipe up from your comfy, gilded chair and burp and say, “What’s for dessert, Lord?” He will say, with booming high and holy spirits, “WELL, TRACEY’S MOCHA CHIP CUPCAKES, NATURALLY! THEY ARE SIMPLY DIVINE!!”

One Hour Ago:

— I was talking with Sister-in-Law, mother to 18-month-old niece, Button Baby. She called to tell me that Button Baby had inhaled half of a Divine Cupcake yesterday and apparently woke up in her crib this morning crowing, “Tee Tee! Cu-cake! Cu-caaaakke!!” Oops. I fear it’s the caffeine.

Five Favorite Snacks:

Red Vines
Hot Tamales
Apples
Those darn Junior Caramels — anything chocolate is dangerous
Cheetos — stay away from me, Cheetos! You cheesy devils!

Five Songs I Know the Words to:

Well, I know the words to a LOT of songs, really. Okay. That’s a cop-out. I’ll tell you one:

In college, this big galoot named Michael was desperately, obsessively in love with me. We were in the theatre department together and, frankly, he was the worst actor I had ever seen. That is uncharitable, I know. It’s also true. No matter what the role, he SPOKE IN A BOOMING VOICE, LIKE THIS, AS IF TO RAISE THE DEAD AND FRIGHTEN CHILDREN! When you spoke to him offstage, he acted British. He was not; he was from Yakima. He was very tall, 6-5, and rather doughy and I was frightened by the very sight of his thunderous thighs in his perpetually too-tight pants. He was a vexing, pompous person, certain that he was the World’s Greatest Actor, with absolutely no evidence to prove it.

Apparently, in my junior year, he decided he was in love with me. I guess that all my ignoring and near outright contempt had finally won him over. At first, his love for me made him giddy and messy and he was far too large to be either giddy or messy. Later on, he was simply everywhere I was. If I got anywhere near him, he deemed it permission to standpracticallyontopofmeandstaredownintomyeyes. I’ve never known a fellow so thoroughly convinced of the Mesmerizing Power of his Gaze. And so thoroughly deluded. It was downright creepy.

One day, I walked into the theatre for rehearsal, and there he was, seated at the grand piano, plinking around on the keys. I turned to leave, hoping he hadn’t seen me, when I heard him boom in his awful, hybrid British accent:

“Ah, Tracey. Thaaayyre you ahhrrr!”

Ugh.

Ignoring the stomach churning, I tried to sound breezy.

“Oh, hi, Michael.”

“Come ovahhh herrre. I wahhnt to play something for you.”

“Oh, well, really, I —”

He started to scowl at me and I was a little scared when he scowled and we were alone and I didn’t know what to do. I approached only a little closer, hesitant. But I was sure my legs could outrun those thighs, if need be. I sighed.

“Okay, Michael, what is it?”

Turns out, it was a song he had written.

For ME.

With lyrics.

That went like this:

“Why can’t it be the way that I want it to beeeeeee?

Godddddddd!!!!

I WANNA DIE RIGHT NOW

DIE RIGHT NOW

DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

As he pounded the last, dreadful minor chord, I stared at him from a distance, AGHAST. He stared back at me with — I don’t know what. I think he was going for naked DESIRE, but he just looked as if he were swept away by the smell of garbage. But in that moment, I finally felt a kinship with this menacing, soppy weirdo, because more than anything, ANYTHING I just wanted to

DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Instead, though, I looked at him and blurted, “I gotta go to the bathroom” as I sprinted out of the room.

So I know the words to THAT song. Oh, yes.

What I would do with 5 Millon Dollars:
Put some money in trust for my nephews and nieces.

At least a million dollars to my father who, for 20 years, has spent so much money trying to find out what’s wrong with my mother.

I’d start a fund for childless Christians who’d like to adopt but find it cost prohibitive.

And, oh, My Beloved — anything he wants. But as an architecture buff, he’d want to have that house built — the one in his head.

5 Places I would escape to for a while:
That ranch in Hamilton, Montana where we saw the moose and her baby and deer grazed in the meadow — our backyard — every evening
I’d like to go to Ireland
And Wales — I’m Welsh
I’d love to go to Florence
I’d love to go to Jerusalem

5 Things I would not wear:

I don’t really do dresses — skirts, either.

I don’t like those thong sandals — that whole toe floss thing just shivers me timbers.

I can’t stand those GIANT hoop earrings.

I don’t wear fingernail polish, however, I do sometimes wear toenail polish. But if I splotch it between my toes, it stays!! (Shivvvvvvver)

Any kind of nose ring or eyebrow ring or belly button ring or … you get the drift.

5 Favorite TV Programs:
Seinfeld Reruns
Lost
I do like 24
I like the History Channel
And something else, I’m sure

5 Greatest Joys
Saving grace
My Beloved
My nephews/nieces
Singing
Writing

5 Favorite Toys:

Laptop
Ipod
Books
My trampoline
My coffee grinder

5 People I will tag to play…

WordGirl
Rev-Ed
Itsara
Prof. Steve
Anita P.

All right. I think I’m done. Well, there was more to the meme at The Anchoress, but I’m not sure if I was supposed to do the rest. So you see which choice I’m making.

UPDATE: Hey, if I tagged you, please know, there is NO pressure. With my deplorable track record on memes like these, I’ve certainly no right to expect completion from ANYONE else! ;-0