It’s probably passe to participate in the Liebster Award now that a month has passed since the initial flurry of nominations, but I was busy last month and it’s given me an excuse to write something so I’m going for it. I am always late to everything anyway (last person to post a Sinful Sunday 9 times out of 10 and that is being very generous to myself) so there is no reason I wouldn’t be late to this.
I was nominated by the devastatingly gorgeous Abbi Cranky. I’ve been following her blog for almost as long as I’ve had a blog myself (just over a year) and her writing never fails to to turn me on or make me laugh sometimes at the same time. (A bit of laughter and fucking is *always* hot). In addition to the sexy writing, she’s a real person who’s not afraid to be vulnerable here which is something I greatly admire and would some day like to achieve. I also totally admire her taste in underwear.
The Liebster award has rules, but since I am probably the last person on earth participating this year, I will skip listing them and get right to talking about myself and answering Abbi’s questions. (Apologies to any sort of Liebster Council).
1. Bacon or sausages? You can only have one.
Bacon. I like it crispy. Of course there is also nothing wrong with a big juicy sausage. I like mine spicy, with mustard.
2. When a plane lands is it ever acceptable to clap?
I suppose in the case of that guy that landed the plane in the Hudson River and everyone got out safely, then yes, a round of applause and possibly a fruit basket would be acceptable. Otherwise, everyone is just doing their job and there’s no need to get too excited.
3. What do you crave when you’re hungover?
Carbonated caffeine and crispy hashbrowns that I did not have to cook myself. If I’m very very hungover, then nothing will help but sleep and time and everyone to leave me alone while I wallow in self-recrimination. I really hate being hungover. I try to avoid it as much as possible. Which, I know, makes me slightly less fun on a night out than I could be, but I feel it’s worth the trade off.
4. What is the sexiest accent for you?
(My answer to this is basically “every accent that isn’t my own or from the movie Fargo,” so you can skip the rest if you want to). I am such a sucker for accents. An accent and a high-functioning brain work to make any average looking person about 20 times hotter than I thought they were before I heard them speak. As for the sexiest? That is almost impossible. English is probably number one due to my childhood diet of Barbara Cartland and Cary Grant. I’m not going to embarrass myself by trying to identify regions or dialects. But, if you’ve ever listened to the audiobooks of Ben Aaronovitch’s Rivers of London series narrated by Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, that’s it. His Peter Grant is my current favorite accent ever. (I know, nerd-alert. Whatever.)
In addition to the above, because I am not going to pick just one: (is it my introverted nature that just loves listening to people foreign from me talk?) Scottish. Yes please. (I once had a flirtation with someone from Glasgow and I only understood about a quarter of what he said, but *drool*). Irish, yes. (That’s mostly due to my love of The Matchmaker which my college roommates and I would watch on repeat). Australian? Yes. because The Man from Snowy River. I want all of the above to read me a page from an encyclopedia and then have their way with me.
I love the lilting sound of Scandinavians speaking English and the give-no-fucks way that the Germans, Swiss, and Austrians speak English. I’m a fan of the romantic languages as well, French and Italian and Spanish and Portuguese. (But really, just go ahead and whisper in my ear in your native language, I can *feel* what you’re saying). And Russian, I like the hard Rs and intense eyes. I had a huge crush on my drawing TA in college who was from Japan, his voice was soft and low (I hadn’t even had sex yet, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him when he spoke). I am the epitome of the ignorant American in that I don’t speak any other languages, so anyone who speaks more than one (that’s brains plus an accent – hot) is especially attractive.
Sorry, that was a bit long winded. I like a couple of American accents too. Anything with a smart drawl. Some southern or the Rocky Mountain west.
5. Where have you been, that would surprise me that you have no interest in returning to? And why? (i.e. somewhere that’s universally thought of as great).
I love to travel and being a poor money manager, working in the land of short paid vacation time, and living 2500 miles from either coast means I don’t travel all that much. (I have, over the course of my life, been a lot of places, but not by comparison to you European types who can hop on an Easy Jet and be in Spain in 90 minutes for $25.) If I had to give an answer, I guess it would be Washington D. C. It was lovely, but once was probably enough. (Unless you’re offering me a free ticket…)
6. If I made you a cup of tea/cup of coffee/sandwich and it wasn’t to your liking, would you tell me?
It depends on how well we know each other. If it was the first time I met you, and it was even remotely edible, I probably wouldn’t say anything. The force of my mom’s ingrained “don’t make a fuss” is too powerful. If we know each other, then I wouldn’t hesitate to help myself in fixing it to my liking. Or in the case of a recent dinner at my BFF’s house where the pilot light went out on the stove and she didn’t realize it and I scooped up a bite of tater-tot casserole (I know, god, I’m from the midwest!) and it was ice cold, I’d tease you relentlessly.
7. If someone had some food on their face, something in their teeth, would you tell them?
Yes! Because I would want to know if it was the other way around. I’d try to do it quietly, but definitely.
8. Do you have any strong feelings about your name, first or surname – or if you’re a girl, giving it up?
I like my entire name. I’ve lived long enough now with it that I can’t really see changing it. Maybe I’d consider some sort of hyphenated situation if my partner really wanted it. But at this point in my life I can’t really imagine being with someone who would insist on me taking his name. I sort of feel like once you get past a certain age it starts to seem silly, plus there’s all the historical property connotations. I do have friends that consider everyone in the family having the same name as a signifier that they are all on the same “team.” But I’m likely not having kids so it would just be me changing my name for a man, which, eh, I’m not that comfortable with. I’m also not madly in love with anyone in the moment and maybe if I were, I’d want to take their name as a symbol of that love. But my rational, non-love-blind brain says no.
9. Do you leave voicemails, or just hang up and send a text?
I generally don’t leave them unless I’m calling my grandma or parents. And I’d much rather get a text unless it’s my birthday.
10. What is an unacceptable item of clothing that would have you struggling to forgive?
I don’t live on the cutting edge of fashion so I can’t judge too harshly. This probably says more about where I grew up than anything but, no belt buckles that are bigger than your head. Unless you recently won a rodeo event, you have no business wearing a buckle that big. (Even if you won it, just put it on your mantle).
11. If you left your country for a year what would be the thing that you would miss the most (we’re assuming you’d miss your family, partner, friends and pets).
Air-conditioning in the summer. (I know other countries have it but in my experience it’s not as good or as ubiquitous).
Eleven random facts about myself.
1. I think peanut butter and dill pickle sandwiches are delicious and I’ve only ever run into one other person (aside from in my family) who has ever even heard of that combo. (It’s sooooo good).
2.When I was 19, I took a Greyhound bus to Saskatchewan to spend a log weekend with a friend I met in summer camp. During one of the legs of the trip I sat next to a very nice, very old man from the Yukon who was going cross country to visit his son. He gave me his address and I never did send him a note or a card and I still regret it, 20 years later.
3. I like drinks made with gin.
4. The only time I drank so much I cried happened when I had too many self-poured gin and tonics and then made out with a friend who had a giant nest for a beard and then my ex-boyfriend lectured me in front of the whole party, and later I lost the left lens out of my glasses. I’m certainly not mad at the gin though.
5. I’m intensely proud of where I grew up and the place I am from. My graduating class had 20 people in it and it was the only school in town.
6. I’m a terrible housekeeper. I live alone and with no roommates or partners to keep me in check, it’s like every room is the laundry room. I remember a distinct conversation with my mom when I was a kid. She was despairing at the state of my room and said “Don’t worry, once you grow up and get married, you’ll be a better housekeeper.” I guess I’m still waiting for a magical husband to make me good at tidying up?
7. I spent too many years being “best friends” with my ex-boyfriend because it was the path of least resistance and I’m ashamed of it and feel like admitting it proves a flaw in my character.
8. I get a really intense thrill knowing there are naked pictures of me on the Internet and even though I’d probably hyperventilate to death if my boss or my dad ever found out. I’m really proud of putting them there.
9. I’ve never had much of a biological clock. I always assumed I’d probably have kids because that’s what people around here do, but when I never really met anyone that I wanted to parent with, and I kept getting older, I realized I wasn’t interested in raising children on my own. I also discovered the delight in having nieces and nephews to dote on, return to their parents, and then still get a full night’s sleep for myself. Also, dating without the pressure of “needing to fall in love before my eggs run out” is way, way, way more fun.
10. I’m allergic to cats and generally think pets are just OK. Which, as a single woman, makes me feel like a bit of an outcast. Who am I if I don’t have a furry mouth to feed?! (I’m not scooping up poop in a grocery bag twice a day, is who I am).
11. I am braver and more confident than I was at this time last year.
Well, that’s it. Thanks again Abbi for the nomination. If I were doing this properly, I’d list nominees here but since every blogger I know has surely already been nominated, I am going to leave this as is. (If the Liebster Council* has a problem with it, they can contact me and I’ll scrounge up some nominations).
*Does not exist to my knowledge.