Envy
Struggling on with the seven deadly sins meme - which is crap anyway, because I don't think any sin except murder (and even there, I'd qualify it) and rape/ child abuse (no qualification, ever) are deadly.
But, okay, envy - seven qualities I lack that I would really, really value.
1. Organization. Couldn't organize a piss up in a brewery. An orgy in a brothel. A squee at a fan convention. A group grope of Jensen Ackles' bum.
2. Wisdom. Wisdom would be nice.
3. The ability to mindmeld. No?
4. Diligence. Because it's just so bloody easy to fuck off for the day.
5. A scientific brain. I would love that. I find physics and biology and astronomy and geology so bloody interesting, and none of it ever sticks. It just doesn't. I can remember the authors of books I have never read. Truly. I have a phenomenal memory for trivia, and that area of trivia in particular. But all that good juicy science stuff? It just doesn't stay, even as I listen avidly, even as I *want* to learn. I read bucket loads of science, and it fascinates me even as it floats away...
6. A memory for names and faces. Okay, much of this is because I meet people when I'm six parts cut, but still, even when I'm sober, I meet folks and then I see them again days later and I know I should know them... My mum meets people down the street, hasn't seen them in ten years, and not only will she know their names, she'll know their Aunty Maude Had A Leg, and they themselves have Never Been The Same Since The Op, and I'm thinking, how do you *do* this??
7. I envy polyglots. If I ever do get accosted by a Genie About Town, looking to throw wishes away with Gay Abandon (tell me a drag queen has used that somewhere as a name), I would ask for the ability to be able to speak, read and write in a multitude of languages. I know tiny bits of Russian, tiny bits of French, tiny bits of Italian, Bahasa, Spanish - and by that I mean I can collect vocabulary of any number of language like a magpie, but actually use expressive language, actually negotiate grammar?? Ha. I truly do envy that, probably more than anything else I've put here.
Reading 'Franklin and Eleanor' by Hazel Rowley - bloody good. So desperately sad the author has just died. And 'Daughter of the blood' by Anne Griffiths - ditto. (Um, not about the dying. I haven't a clue. Anne Griffiths, to the best of my knowledge, is soldiering on as we speak. The book was lent to me by one of my nieces, and although I'm always a bit iffy about fantasy because so many of them seem so derivative (ooh look - it's swords and cloaks and a quest and a castle and a princess/prince/bloody Mercedes Lackey (spit), this one is drawing me in).
ETA: I love the universe. Every single time I get tickets on myself, to the point when I'd say something as egotistical and brattish as, " I can remember the authors of books I have never read. Truly. I have a phenomenal memory for trivia, and that area of trivia in particular.", the universe then hands me my arse. The author of 'Daughter of the Blood' is Anne Bishop. I have no idea who Anne Girffiths is. I hope she's happy and well, but I can guarantee she is *not* writing DOTB. Sigh.
But, okay, envy - seven qualities I lack that I would really, really value.
1. Organization. Couldn't organize a piss up in a brewery. An orgy in a brothel. A squee at a fan convention. A group grope of Jensen Ackles' bum.
2. Wisdom. Wisdom would be nice.
3. The ability to mindmeld. No?
4. Diligence. Because it's just so bloody easy to fuck off for the day.
5. A scientific brain. I would love that. I find physics and biology and astronomy and geology so bloody interesting, and none of it ever sticks. It just doesn't. I can remember the authors of books I have never read. Truly. I have a phenomenal memory for trivia, and that area of trivia in particular. But all that good juicy science stuff? It just doesn't stay, even as I listen avidly, even as I *want* to learn. I read bucket loads of science, and it fascinates me even as it floats away...
6. A memory for names and faces. Okay, much of this is because I meet people when I'm six parts cut, but still, even when I'm sober, I meet folks and then I see them again days later and I know I should know them... My mum meets people down the street, hasn't seen them in ten years, and not only will she know their names, she'll know their Aunty Maude Had A Leg, and they themselves have Never Been The Same Since The Op, and I'm thinking, how do you *do* this??
7. I envy polyglots. If I ever do get accosted by a Genie About Town, looking to throw wishes away with Gay Abandon (tell me a drag queen has used that somewhere as a name), I would ask for the ability to be able to speak, read and write in a multitude of languages. I know tiny bits of Russian, tiny bits of French, tiny bits of Italian, Bahasa, Spanish - and by that I mean I can collect vocabulary of any number of language like a magpie, but actually use expressive language, actually negotiate grammar?? Ha. I truly do envy that, probably more than anything else I've put here.
Reading 'Franklin and Eleanor' by Hazel Rowley - bloody good. So desperately sad the author has just died. And 'Daughter of the blood' by Anne Griffiths - ditto. (Um, not about the dying. I haven't a clue. Anne Griffiths, to the best of my knowledge, is soldiering on as we speak. The book was lent to me by one of my nieces, and although I'm always a bit iffy about fantasy because so many of them seem so derivative (ooh look - it's swords and cloaks and a quest and a castle and a princess/prince/bloody Mercedes Lackey (spit), this one is drawing me in).
ETA: I love the universe. Every single time I get tickets on myself, to the point when I'd say something as egotistical and brattish as, " I can remember the authors of books I have never read. Truly. I have a phenomenal memory for trivia, and that area of trivia in particular.", the universe then hands me my arse. The author of 'Daughter of the Blood' is Anne Bishop. I have no idea who Anne Girffiths is. I hope she's happy and well, but I can guarantee she is *not* writing DOTB. Sigh.