The Meme That Won't Die stumbles into my LJ seeking blood.
From bhagwanx, 5 Q. The rules say that I must provide five questions, for you to answer in your own journal space, upon your request.
1. First question is always geography. Tell us something about your home town that no-one else knows.
When asked, I say I'm from L.A./Glendale, but the first house was in Silverlake, near Echo Park. To some of the denizens, this was (is?) Frogtown. As a child, I saw the label in graffitti, and heard it when my big brother emulated the speaking style of the vatos. Don't ask me what that means; my mama kept me out of La Vida Loca. I never had the AquaNet crusted bangs reaching heavenward three and four inches above my head. Echo Park lake is deep and mysterious, covered in lilypads, and likely still hides bodies both organic and automobile. I hear the area is being gentrified.
2. Unlike me, you had a large family growing up. But like me, you are distanced from them, and not merely by geopgraphy. how does their presence (or absence) continue to shape your life (if it helps, I draw continual strength just from the existence of mine)
You can't tell by the layout, but I left this one to answer last. Some of my family is in SoCal, some of it is here in Seattle, a few miles from me, and I have a sister in TX. I interact with them all about equally, which is to say, very little.
I keep secrets from my family. I don't bring girlfriends or boyfriends home to mom & dad. It's not that I'm afraid of what they'll think. I just don't want them to know.
There is something burdensome to the blood ties that I don't want to explain. I'm not sure that I have the words to explain it. I avoid thinking about it.
3. It has been mentioned to me that I seem to not form the same sorts of emotional bonds with women that I do with men. I think that this is a function of the relative numbers of both that I know, but my experience is admittedly somewhat limited. Have you seen in your life a marked difference between same-sex and cross-gender interactions?
I hate-hate-hate admitting it, but I am sexist. I have higher standards for the behavior of women than I do for men. (I've managed to find a lot of high quality women, because right now, a majority of my close friends are female. This may be due to women being more tolerant of my bad personality; I don't know.) What this means is that chicks pass or fail on hard lines, while dudes get set up with a tally sheet, tests and probation periods. It's horribly unfair.
I'm an emotional creature, loud, passionate, and mercurial. I don't just have mood swings, I have the whole playground. I've never been a tomboy. I tend to get physically and/or romantically involved with male friends, and when that part tanks, the friendship is left stunned. Sometimes it's because the kind of guys I like best -- arrogant, big fragile ego -- can't "settle" for the "lesser" relationship, sometimes it's because I never truly can forgive them for the incident of separation, but the friendship gets downgraded to "friendly aquaintance", if it doesn't wilt and shrivel up. In the case of John-from-Connecticut, his uber jealous girlfriend won't let him talk to me anymore.
I would truly like that to be different. Male energy is wonderful to be around, when there isn't any flirting going on. I wish I could figure out how to hang out with the guys, or get more of them involved with social events, like sushi night. That requires finding ones that get along with each other and with me. I fail at that.
4. I know your answer to "Cats or Dogs" but not to "Beatles v. Elvis" So what kind of person are you?
I am a velvet painting in a blacklight illuminated boudoir. I understand the inclination to excess, the divine sadness expressed in a voice like melting brown sugar, the spangles and sequins. Elvis is demanding to be the center of attention, being alone in a crowd, looking for the missing something. The comic trajedy. No one mocks the Beatles, do they?
5. Rum is a wonderful drug, as is the blessed distillate of the agave plant. But which did you "start" with, oh those many years ago?
Hey, it wasn't all that many years. I am still very naïve and uneducated in regards to booze. While tequila came first, it was presented in the form of a bad blended margarita at a cheap Mexican restaurant. It wasn't til later, at the lush age of legally old enough to drink, that I had the pleasure of a tequila shot.
I am no longer allowed to drink rum drinks if math of any kind will have to be performed afterward. Rum makes me stupid and dull; tequila fuels bad urges, from clothing removal to stepping into traffic.
1. First question is always geography. Tell us something about your home town that no-one else knows.
When asked, I say I'm from L.A./Glendale, but the first house was in Silverlake, near Echo Park. To some of the denizens, this was (is?) Frogtown. As a child, I saw the label in graffitti, and heard it when my big brother emulated the speaking style of the vatos. Don't ask me what that means; my mama kept me out of La Vida Loca. I never had the AquaNet crusted bangs reaching heavenward three and four inches above my head. Echo Park lake is deep and mysterious, covered in lilypads, and likely still hides bodies both organic and automobile. I hear the area is being gentrified.
2. Unlike me, you had a large family growing up. But like me, you are distanced from them, and not merely by geopgraphy. how does their presence (or absence) continue to shape your life (if it helps, I draw continual strength just from the existence of mine)
You can't tell by the layout, but I left this one to answer last. Some of my family is in SoCal, some of it is here in Seattle, a few miles from me, and I have a sister in TX. I interact with them all about equally, which is to say, very little.
I keep secrets from my family. I don't bring girlfriends or boyfriends home to mom & dad. It's not that I'm afraid of what they'll think. I just don't want them to know.
There is something burdensome to the blood ties that I don't want to explain. I'm not sure that I have the words to explain it. I avoid thinking about it.
3. It has been mentioned to me that I seem to not form the same sorts of emotional bonds with women that I do with men. I think that this is a function of the relative numbers of both that I know, but my experience is admittedly somewhat limited. Have you seen in your life a marked difference between same-sex and cross-gender interactions?
I hate-hate-hate admitting it, but I am sexist. I have higher standards for the behavior of women than I do for men. (I've managed to find a lot of high quality women, because right now, a majority of my close friends are female. This may be due to women being more tolerant of my bad personality; I don't know.) What this means is that chicks pass or fail on hard lines, while dudes get set up with a tally sheet, tests and probation periods. It's horribly unfair.
I'm an emotional creature, loud, passionate, and mercurial. I don't just have mood swings, I have the whole playground. I've never been a tomboy. I tend to get physically and/or romantically involved with male friends, and when that part tanks, the friendship is left stunned. Sometimes it's because the kind of guys I like best -- arrogant, big fragile ego -- can't "settle" for the "lesser" relationship, sometimes it's because I never truly can forgive them for the incident of separation, but the friendship gets downgraded to "friendly aquaintance", if it doesn't wilt and shrivel up. In the case of John-from-Connecticut, his uber jealous girlfriend won't let him talk to me anymore.
I would truly like that to be different. Male energy is wonderful to be around, when there isn't any flirting going on. I wish I could figure out how to hang out with the guys, or get more of them involved with social events, like sushi night. That requires finding ones that get along with each other and with me. I fail at that.
4. I know your answer to "Cats or Dogs" but not to "Beatles v. Elvis" So what kind of person are you?
I am a velvet painting in a blacklight illuminated boudoir. I understand the inclination to excess, the divine sadness expressed in a voice like melting brown sugar, the spangles and sequins. Elvis is demanding to be the center of attention, being alone in a crowd, looking for the missing something. The comic trajedy. No one mocks the Beatles, do they?
5. Rum is a wonderful drug, as is the blessed distillate of the agave plant. But which did you "start" with, oh those many years ago?
Hey, it wasn't all that many years. I am still very naïve and uneducated in regards to booze. While tequila came first, it was presented in the form of a bad blended margarita at a cheap Mexican restaurant. It wasn't til later, at the lush age of legally old enough to drink, that I had the pleasure of a tequila shot.
I am no longer allowed to drink rum drinks if math of any kind will have to be performed afterward. Rum makes me stupid and dull; tequila fuels bad urges, from clothing removal to stepping into traffic.