If I didn't know any better, I'd think that my wonderful wife just tagged me on a meme. Seeing as how my ability to write for this blog seems to have been disrupted by a bizarre streak of good fortune, this is probably a good way to get back in the game...
1. What were you doing 10 years ago?
I was 28 years old, and probably working two jobs (this was vacation for me - during the rest of the year, I worked two jobs and went to college full-time). So mostly working and sleeping. When not doing that, spending a fair amount of time on Usenet or in front of my PlayStation. Writing poetry, being angry at the world, at myself. I was still several months away from meeting S at this point, so I was probably a not-quite hermit. Going to see Einstürzende Neubauten at the Paradise in Boston. Getting my second tattoo. It was a simpler time.
2. What 5 things are on your to-do list today?
Finish dissertation revisions
Work on class syllabi for next semester
Clear out more of email backlog
Go to grocery store
Write guest post for Glow In The Woods
And I got all of it done. Woo-hoo!
3. List snacks you enjoy.
Wasabi peas.
Assorted flavors of Pocky.
Popcorn.
Chips (potato or corn) and dip (queso, salsa, horrible mutant creamy southwestern ranch stuff)
Crackers and Brie.
4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
First? Settle all debts, public and private.
Second? Buy me some shit. Sensible, practical stuff like a house, and frivolous stuff like a home theater setup and screening room addition to that house in which to put it. More tattoo work. Clothes. S says I'm a clotheshorse. If I am, it's her fault. I wore stuff from the Garment District and Army surplus before she met me.
Third? Invest. Put it way for a rainy day.
Fourth? Donations and charitable work. Big awards to people like the ACLU, MoveOn, Habitat for Humanity, area animal shelters. Work for infertility education and outreach. Work for literacy. Scholarships for deserving students who can't afford college. Big-ass endowment to my alma mater's psychology department,
5. List places you have lived.
Norman, OK
Midwest City, OK
Oklahoma City, OK
Columbia, MO
Cockeysville, MD
Boston, MA
Brighton, MA
Somerville, MA
Arlington, MA
Tiny College Town, OH
6. List jobs you have had.
Busboy/dishwasher
Dishwasher
McDonald's grill worker
Stock clerk, men's clothing store
Retail bookseller (for two whole weeks)
Picture framer
Customer service, copy shop
Shift supervisor, copy shop
Research assistant, developmental psychology lab (at same time as the above copy shop jobs)
Inside sales, copy shop
Research assistant, clinical psychology lab
QC Documentation, pharmaceutical company
Graduate teaching assistant, psychology
Visiting assistant professor, psychology (woo-hoo!)
7. List those who you would like to answer the above questions.
I think just about everyone who I read has done this.
Showing posts with label memes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memes. Show all posts
Friday, June 13, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
6 x 6 (Or: My First Meme)
This comes courtesy of Glow In The Woods - go check it out.
1) In a word, how would you characterize yourself before your loss, and then after?
Before: Full of joy and anticipation.
After: Empty and hard.
2) How do you feel around pregnant women?
Generally okay. It's just when people start talking about their pregnancies and/or children and all of the wonderful (and not-wonderful) stuff that comes with being pregnant and/or having kids that I start to lose it a little. The reminders of what I don't have, of things on which I'm missing out.
3) How do you answer the 'how many children' question?
Haven't had to yet, but if/when I do, I'll just say none. Not exactly true, but it's parsimonious - if they're insensitive enough to follow up with something like "well why not?" then I'll tell them without being especially genteel about it. Otherwise, the people with whom I'd want to talk about it already know.
4) How did you explain what happened to your lost babies to your living children? Or, if this was your first pregnancy, will you tell future children about your first?
We don't have any other children, and at this point, thinking about what we'd tell any children we're able to have what happened to their brothers seems like the height of arrogance. Right now, I'd just be grateful to have a child to tell.
5) What would another pregnancy mean to you, and how would you get through it—or are you done with babymaking?
It took us two years of IUIs, procedures, tests and medication to get as far as we did. The two boys we lost were the first pregnancy to get beyond the chemical pregnancy stage. We're starting to think about trying again, but it seems like so much for little to no guarantee. I have no idea how I'd get through it. I can't imagine that we're done, but I can't imagine how we'd do it either. Like everything else about this whole thing, there are no good options. Everything is bad.
6) Imagine being able to step back in time and whisper into the ear of your past self the day after your babies died. What would you say?
I don't know. I think part of me is still back there. Maybe just tell myself that when I feel like I can survive it, that I'm strong enough, that we'll both get through this somehow, that I'm right.
1) In a word, how would you characterize yourself before your loss, and then after?
Before: Full of joy and anticipation.
After: Empty and hard.
2) How do you feel around pregnant women?
Generally okay. It's just when people start talking about their pregnancies and/or children and all of the wonderful (and not-wonderful) stuff that comes with being pregnant and/or having kids that I start to lose it a little. The reminders of what I don't have, of things on which I'm missing out.
3) How do you answer the 'how many children' question?
Haven't had to yet, but if/when I do, I'll just say none. Not exactly true, but it's parsimonious - if they're insensitive enough to follow up with something like "well why not?" then I'll tell them without being especially genteel about it. Otherwise, the people with whom I'd want to talk about it already know.
4) How did you explain what happened to your lost babies to your living children? Or, if this was your first pregnancy, will you tell future children about your first?
We don't have any other children, and at this point, thinking about what we'd tell any children we're able to have what happened to their brothers seems like the height of arrogance. Right now, I'd just be grateful to have a child to tell.
5) What would another pregnancy mean to you, and how would you get through it—or are you done with babymaking?
It took us two years of IUIs, procedures, tests and medication to get as far as we did. The two boys we lost were the first pregnancy to get beyond the chemical pregnancy stage. We're starting to think about trying again, but it seems like so much for little to no guarantee. I have no idea how I'd get through it. I can't imagine that we're done, but I can't imagine how we'd do it either. Like everything else about this whole thing, there are no good options. Everything is bad.
6) Imagine being able to step back in time and whisper into the ear of your past self the day after your babies died. What would you say?
I don't know. I think part of me is still back there. Maybe just tell myself that when I feel like I can survive it, that I'm strong enough, that we'll both get through this somehow, that I'm right.
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