It’s a Meme, Ma’am

This meme came from my bud, Delaney a few days ago.


I’m supposed to give ya’ll 10 honest truths about myself.  This is the last one I wish to do for awhile coz I don’t really think you guys give a flyin’ fig about this type of stuff about me – but, anyway…here goes.

10 Honest Truths About Myself

1.  I only eat the soft part of the fries; the crunchy part goes to EmmaLou, the Golden Destroyer.

2.  Seeing pics of all those ladies in their middle years with gorgeous grey hair makes me jealous.   The honest truth is on me gray looks old and sickly, so my hair will remain auburn awhile longer.

3.  I will never wear a size 2 again.

4.  I’ve never actually been a size 2.  I starved down to a 6 and maintained it for 3 or 4 minutes.

5.  I never should have listened to my parents.  Learning a skill so I would always have something to fall back on was the biggest mistake of my life because it got in the way of my doing what I truly wanted.

6.  My phobia of clowns is real.  I will walk in another direction if I see one.  The wife of one of my church’s pastors is a clown.  I have never met her.  I’m sure she is a very nice lady.  But if I ever meet her when she is in costume I will have to walk away.  Quickly.   There is a strange aspect to this phobia.  Someone in a garish outfit with the bizarre wig and makeup bothers me yet I enjoy watching Cirque du Soleil.  Go figure.

7.  I will kill a spider (if Devoted Spouse isn’t there to do it for me).  But I always rescue ladybugs and return them outdoors.  That makes me a bug racist.

8.  My most treasured possession is my dog.  That’s the one thing I would save in a fire.  Everything else can be replaced.  Of course, this is not counting Devoted Spouse because he’s not a possession, although I would definitely not leave him behind.  I’d also grab my vintage Louis Vuitton bag.  And my 1960’s Barbie.  And my credit cards.  And my Treasure Box with every card, note, and love letter Devoted Spouse has given me in the last 25+ years.  Crap, I’ll never make it out of the house.

9.  My most treasured possession is my Treasure Box…the dog is on her own.

10.  If Paint By the Numbers was the standard, I’d be a world-class artist.


5 thoughts on “It’s a Meme, Ma’am

  1. Good evening,
    How sad. I visit your blog tonite before I see my own blog
    BTW, what’s a “meme”?
    And you still have your Barbie doll?
    So do I!
    I have (vintage 1960s) Tracy (very blond and busty), Scooter & Skipper (young and flat-chested), and Francie. I have their wardrobes, and their carrying cases.
    Jeeez, I need to get a life.
    you are bizarre and I like that in a friend — I had a Ken but his weird mossy hair went ooky on me and I don’t recall what happened to him. A meme is like playing tag. It’s a bit silly. Other bloggers tag you and there is usually some list of requirements to follow. Most are fun but I find some too personal. Then you tag others with the same meme. I was being kind in not tagging anyone because I’ve annoyed my fellow bloggers enough lately. Plus I’m tired and cranky and my $#^& arm is killing me today.

  2. Clowns are scary! No denying.

    Have you seen my paintings? Trust me, anything goes these days.

    And last but not least, I really do want to know 10 things about you. Of course I’d know these things if I wasn’t too lazy to go through your archives.
    I’m not actually scared, more on the order of repulsed. As for your paintings I seem to recall something about a magnolia and it was lovely…

  3. Linda, if people are crazy enough to want to know more about me then they definitely want to know more about you since you are way more interesting then me.

    My son hates clowns too! I was never a size 2 or even a 6 but my daughter was a size 2 when she was 20 and is a 6 now. The joy of being short and small instead of tall and not.

    Thanks for saving the ladybugs from a ladybug lover 🙂
    Personally I think we’re both fascinating! Clowns — I vividly remember my first experience as a child; a very small child at a circus w/my father and he kept pushing me toward the clown and telling me to stop crying. Childhood trauma surfaces in the strangest ways. I do love ladybugs — they’re just so darn cute.

  4. Good news for you! A spider, technically, is not a bug, therefore you are NOT a racist.

    On the other hand, if you kill flies, I have to rescind that statement and tell you that you ARE indeed a true bug racist.


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