4 posts from January 2007

Okay, we hate to ask, but... over the roll or under the roll?  

Wow.  Someone had writer's block today.

Honestly, I don't care.  But the men I've lived with insist on over the roll, so that's what I do when I'm thinking about it.

Ok, question answered.  So here's mine--WHY do some people insist on starting a new roll on the counter rather than finish the old roll and have to put on the new one?  Are they really that lazy, or living in some happy crappy little passive agressive world?

If you could open a restaurant, any kind you want, what would it look like and what's on the menu?
Submitted by A is for Amy.

Obviously, money is no object.  I don't have to worry about expenses or pulling in business or anything like that.  To me, that's part of 'any kind you want'...

So after Uncle Vito sets me up with the neverending money, I hire someone else to handle the aesthetics and the books and the dishes. 

The menu would be some combination of my all-time-favorites and daily experiments.  So there would always be some happy soups and good bread and homey desserts.  It'd probably be mostly vegetarian, but a few meaty things, just in case my father drops in or something.

There would be a certain emphasis on seasonal ingredients--it just feels weird to have fresh cherries in January.  Supporting local growers would be cool--maybe I could have gardens out back for herbs and such. 

And I wouldn't mind too much about making EVERYONE happy.  If they didn't appreciate, oh well--don't have to deal with THEM again!

Would you rather go back in time or visit the future?
Submitted by Auds.

Going back in time would be so much more satisfying than going to the future.

For one thing, there's the whole financial security through careful use of information.  If Back to the Future II taught us anything, it's that nothing can possibly go wrong if you have a sports almanac and connections to bookies.

Sure, there's a decent chance that I might change the now-future, but it's a pretty small chance that I'd make myself not exist or something.  I mean, maybe they decide to spell Pepsi with a y.  It'd be a little weird, but no sane person drinks the stuff anyway.

If I headed to the future, there's an excellent chance that I would learn something that I wouldn't want to know.  Of course, that could happen in the past, too.  Imagine walking in on Great-uncle Herschel getting it on with Great-aunt Margie.  But hey, maybe she was hot back then.

Seriously, for all those who are curious about the future, I think there are enough mysteries in the past.  Did Shakespeare write the works of Shakespeare?  Was Benjamin Franklin as sleazy as we thought?  Which came first--the chicken or the egg?

Do you have any phobias?
Submitted by Amirul B Ruslan.

I'm not especially fond of parking garages and other enclosed (and hard to escape) spaces.  I wouldn't say that I'm deathly afraid, but I really would prefer to spend as little time as possible in them.  I especially hate those spiral ramps with the tight turns and the low ceilings.  Elevators aren't much better. 

I also dread visits to the dentist, but this is a rational fear--they cost lots of money and cause me pain.

Spiders I remind myself are good and helpful beings, and I admire the big pretty ones.  Unless they're jumping.  I really want to be able to predict the motion of things, and the jumping ones make that difficult.  Other bugs rarely freak me out, though the big cockroaches have been known to make me shriek in surprise.

Rats and such tend to make me squeak--not only are they surprising, but they can bite and scratch.  I'd prefer for them to live in their world and me in mine, please.  (And yet my husband just spent 20 minutes investigating noises in the attic and setting out a trap...)

I'm pretty damned cool in the dark.  I used to hate it, but somewhere along the line I decided that it was comfortable to be in the opaque blanket.  Probably when I started needing more sleep?

Heights I'm more or less fine with.  I don't especially like being in a tightrope sort of situation, but can look over the edge of a building just fine.

The number thirteen?  Wide open spaces?  Feet?  No problems.

Death?  I'd prefer not to talk about it, thanks.

Horror movies really freak me out.  Probably because my brain has a hard time separating fiction from reality.  If nothing else, I end up with wicked nightmares for a long, long time.  I still have the occasional "Carrie" nightmare, and I think I was in middle school when I saw that.  I don't watch horror movies now.  I don't think I've missed much.