Wikipedia Version of Me

I'm starting a new thing on my blog.

Not sure how long it will last because new things bore me easily. I become extremely occupied with them, focus on them immensely and then--poof!-- just like that, I am bored and looking for something new to do.

Let's see how long this one lasts...

It's called 'The Wikipedia Version of Me'.

I got the idea from Amy Krouse Rosenthal's book 'Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life"

(Yes, Jeneva, the book I was just showing you)

So, here we are, ready to begin.

We'll start alphabetically, of course.

ALPHABETICALLY

I like words. I see every word spelled out in my head as people say it. Everything people say appears in it's written form in my mind. So, it's only natural that I like words.

One word I like is the word 'alphabetical.'

Alphabetical order describes putting a list together in a certain order, pertaining to letters, as they are seen listed in the alphabet.

That the very word starts with the letter that the whole list should start with is,

to me,

ironic.

I love irony.

AIR QUOTES

When someone is talking and wants to emphasis something as important they use their hands to make quotes ("quotes") around certain words.

Stop doing that.

AMY

My sister's name is Amy.

She lives in France and was on the beach yesterday. I was walking around in 60 km winds. She likes pasta. I don't eat anything with gluten in it. She knows who Lady Gaga is, I say "gaga" to my children. We are opposite in every way. And yet, this makes us the perfect match for friends.

That, and we both dance to music

whenever we are at a restaurant table waiting for our food to arrive.

DISHES, DIRTY

A stack of dirty dishes doesn't take you as long as you think it will.

Unless you are a bazillionaire, you will have to do dishes for the rest of your life.

This begs the question: why not wear gloves to prevent an early onset of dishpan-hands?

GIRLS, College

Girls, from our church, who attend college and eat with us once a month. They recently made us some food so that I wouldn't have to cook while taking care of my recently injured husband. I am deeply grateful for these girls and think that they are swell.

JUMPING JACKS

I have loved this exercise since I was a kid.

I like to pretend I am a boy, named Jack, who jumps a lot.

KROUSE ROSENTHAL, AMY

Author of the book "The Encyclopedia of An Ordinary Life" and Little Pea, etc.

Author, from whom I absconded this idea of my own wikipedia existence, and who, I secretly hope finds my little blog and this little homage-ripoff of her book that I'm doing on my blog. Part of me thinks, "She'll look at this post and say, 'That girl is an undiscovered genius, just like I was. I must write her and tell her that she is witty, and has surprising insight for one so young." But then another part of me thinks she'll say "Stop that, you big, fat, copycat!" And it's not because she's mean or that I'm big or fat.

I just think she'd express her displeasure using words that rhyme.

MESSY, THRILLING LIFE

Brin--not her real name, she once revealed. And I felt shocked that it wasn't her name and then instantly felt like I should have known that all along--writes one of my favourite blogs.

She once commented on my blog.

I was so ecstatic I was going to write a post about it. My husband thought that that would be excessive and, well, desperate. After writing up a rough draft and sleeping on it, I realized he was right.

Every time I go to comment on her blog, I remember how one time, early in my blogging life, I didn't know the rules of blog etiquette and I left my url to a blog post that was of a similar nature to her heart rending blog post. When I went back to her comments to see if she responded to what I wrote, she had erased my comment. I fretted incessantly thinking, "Great, now she thinks I'm one of those hob-nobbing people who tries to steal her audience by leaving my url and having no compassion for her own post. Now, she'll always look at my future comments and say, "Oh, there's that slacker-piggy-backer coming back with more gumption for her little game. Maybe I should just click delete and toy with her mind a bit more."

My husband said that that didn't sound like her character at all and that perhaps I had crossed the 'excessive' line and gone into the Land of Delusional Narcissistics.

Again he was right.

QUIET

The house only has the dishwasher on and my fingers on the keys. This is nice.

Table: My History with Quiet

age 2: Mother comes running to find me involved with mischief of the worst kind. This was all indicated by my quietness

age 9: realize with a start that what i thought was my Grandmother being quiet on the other end of the phone was really the fact that she hung up. The quiet solitude being broken by the annoying beep-beep-bep of the telephone announcing that our conversation was done

age 11: house is too quiet. Check on Dad. Dad has died.

age 11-25: Hate silence and do all I can to have music, radio, running water and sound of any sort to block out silence and what it reminds me of

age 25: Get counselling over Dad's death. Silence and I make peace.

age 25: Have second baby. Now have a newfound love for silence

age 28: Visit childhood cabin and spend a day in silence. Love silence

age 31: Put children on a "noise timeout" so that I can hear myself think

QUITE RIGHT

My husband is usually and almost always quite right, quite right.

X

X doesn't get enough attention.

It's only there, in the alphabet picture book, with the lame drawings of xylophone and x-ray. But 'x' is so much more.

And I think if we can all give 'x' a little respect, we could be on our way to world peace :)

YAK

I just like saying that word. Yak. Yakety-yak, don't talk back.

ZANE

I wanted to have a son and name him Zane.

True, true, the name did come from a soap opera that I once watched when I was ten, but I was and am attracted the Zzzzz sound. And I thought, "Gee, wouldn't it be swell if you had the name Zane and everyone would say, 'Hey, your name starts with a Z. I dig that groovy zzzz sound.' ?"

And my son would just shrug his shoulders and think,

"I have the coolest mom in the world. She named me Zane."