32 posts tagged “qotd”
Do you remember your dreams?
Yes. Here are this week's highlights:
- Joan Rivers was at my house and kept trying to put her legs on me while we were on the sofa watching telly. She did let me look through her hair for the plastic surgery scars though and gave me a Mark Ryden print.
- There was a thunder storm and I could see the lightening through the cracks in the bathroom wall.
- My dad had a date with a lady and then confessed afterwards that he'd kissed her. I was trying to be supportive and encouraging but inside was screaming.
- And packing. Always with the packing.
Today is Name Your Poison Day. So make a decision and tell us: what's your poison?
There's enough formaldehyde under the sink to choke a horse.
What "old fashioned" cultural behavior do you wish still existed in these modern times?
Hats, gloves, manners, letter-writing, dances, afternoon tea, stepping out and Ponds cold cream to take care of all your skincare needs.
How do you know when a relationship has run its course and it's time to call it quits?
When he's moved in with someone else.
How were you punished as a child?
I wasn't, hence why I'm so lawless and spoilt now.
If you could, which film would you un-watch or which book would you un-read?
Submitted by Kate.
Get me! Answering my own question!
Anyway, if I had one chance to remove one film from my mind, I'm not going to waste it on something which was merely unremitting tedium (ie Vanilla Sky, Magnolia (most things with Tom Cruise, come to think of it) or Meet Joe Black), rather I would choose something which has had a negative effect on me. When I was in Australia, my friend insisted I watch a film with her - it was an amazing film and everyone should watch it. I was then forced to sit through what felt lilke months of the torture that is Requiem for a Dream. I spent the rest of the night quaking in my bed and to this day have been unable to watch anything featuring any of the stars because I can't even bear to be reminded of it. Hence, no more Labrynth, previously one of my favourite films, and no going to see 30 Seconds to Mars, even though I'm reliably informed they're an ace band.
Some years later, I was lent a book by the author who wrote the original book on which the film was based (I forget his name - please don't remind me) and I got about fifty or so pages in of ugly violence and misery when it occured to me I didn't have to go on but if I could have those memories removed and replaced with images of kittens or a badger in a teacup, that'd be good as well.
There was one book which I have successfully managed to blot out from my mind - it was something I found in a youth hostel, somewhere in South America and being bed-ridden with a hangover, I ended up reading it in about a day. It was along the lines of Jackie Collins but my most enduring memory is that previous readers had added their short reviews at the back of it. All I can really remember about the incident is writing in the back 'This book is preposterous! Do NOT read it'.
What did you learn in kindergarten that you wish you did a better job of applying to the way you live your life today?
That people will stop picking on you once you've pulled the see-saw over onto their head. A sad lack of see-saws (and indeed, any play equipment constructed of scaffolding poles and poorly attached to the floor) has meant I am unable to apply this to the way I live my life today.
What lesson did your father teach you that still helps you in life?
How to be kind and hospitable and to make sure that people have something to eat on the way home.
How to make maths easy, by writing problems out on big pieces of paper.
How to write an academic essay and the right way to speak to lecturers so you get what you want out of them.
How to get out of social engagements you don't want to go to and how to extricate yourself from unwanted acquaintances.
How to deal with various kinds of back injuries.
How to read Russian and to speak some French, Italian, German and Danish.
How to think for myself.
That throwing your head back and bellowing with laughter at something funny is perfectly normal - not for us are stifled and repressed giggles, but big laughs, all the time.
How many houses have you lived in? How is where you live now different from where you grew up?
1972-77 The big house in Leeds. Well, probably not that big in hindsight, but it was a three-bedroom detached house, with a shed and a swing and roses in the garden, where it always seemed to be sunny. It's also the house where I was born.
1977-90 The slightly smaller house in Sunderland. I shared a 6 x 6 foot room with my sister (bunk beds), something we often tell her children when they moan about not all having their own rooms.
September - December 1990 Due to the infinite wisdom of my parents, they arranged for me to stay at the Jewish halls of residence when I went to college. It was like the horror of being at summer camp with morons having water fights and arranging crazy larks at all hours. Several tearful calls home later and the application of yet more eyeliner and I was allowed to move out.
January 1991 - August 1992 A shared house in Birmingham with three boys. The role of third boy had a fairly high turnover, second boy was a complete, ketchup down his pants, mental and the first boy became my boyfriend. That sounds romantic and dreamy, trust me, it wasn't.
August 1992 - October 1992 A pub in Sowerby Bridge which belonged to said boyfriend's uncle. It was actually quite good fun and sometimes we'd stay on a friend's narrowboat to get away from it all.
November 1992 - April 1993 (?) The dates are a bit hazy here - I went back to my parents for a bit but also spent some time living at the mental housemate's new house which was round the corner from the old one in Birmingham. He was letting the other spare room to a couple of my best mates and had to live with the sense that we were all having far more fun than he was.
April 1993 - April 1994 Girlington, Bradford. Those of you who know Bradford, will know this isn't exactly the nicest place to live... I moved there with the boy from Birmingham and we promptly broke up (in the house of second house-mate, funnily enough). Another friend moved in, the roof nearly fell in on his head, then he ditched me to move in with the other two from Birmingham (remember them? from the spare room) so I moved to:
May 1994 - December 1994 Great Horton, Bradford This was a vast improvement and we had constant hot water, and everything. Unfortunately I was living with a psycho so it was a bit of relief when the landlord phoned and said he wanted his house back.
January 1995 - October 1995 Bradford I moved over the road from the previous house, with the girl who lived next door. She was fairly bonkers but we had fun in the main until I got back from holiday and she confessed she'd actually moved out but hadn't wanted to tell me, but not to worry, she'd met some bloke in the launderette and he was going to move in. I ran away shortly afterwards.
November 1995 - November 1997 Tooting! I rented a house with a friend of a friend and ooh, it was exciting to be living in London.
November 1997 - April 1998 Highgate, London Due to the flat I wanted to buy falling through, I had to stay with my sister for a while in North London. Boo. Not long before I was back in the welcoming arms of the Saaaarf though.
April 1998 - now Tooting Towers and very, very happy I've been there too.
So twelve houses in all. Is it very different from where I grew up? Listening to the incomprehensible children shrieking in the street last night, I'd say, no, probably not.
Are there any people you would not tell if they had food in their teeth or if their zipper were down? Why or why not?
Submitted by Charms.
Yes. People I don't like.
This also applies for lipstick on the teeth as well. Why? Because I am spiteful.
