Just returned from the post office. Everything went smoothly, the holiday rush considered, but I have to ask: What is with the little old blue-haired ladies who stand so close to you in line that every time either one of you moves her not-inconsiderable, pointy-cornered purse pokes you in the tushie?
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It seems Der Blog is feeling the effect of the holiday insanity since there’s bupkus going on in my knitting world. The needles and yarn have been replaced, instead, by lots of shopping, wrapping, mailing and the constant search for packing peanuts clinging to odd and potentially embarrassing parts of your person—none of which make for interesting writing. So, for the next couple of entries, I’ll just keep plugging along on the “100 Things.” (And thank you, thank you to everyone for playing the Name Generator game. Some of the names made me laugh so hard I cried. I mean, how can your day not be brightened by Tiny Potatobutt, Flunky Chucklebrain, Rump-thumpin' Cracka Fool, Ichabod Smurf, Dank-ass Red Snappa, Tiny Lizardkisser, Flunky Wafflefanny, and Rubba-lipped Crab Whacka (my fave)? If you missed the new ones just posted under comment #24, check ‘em out. They’re great, especially the elegant “Peanutbutter Tullamoredew.” Big Sister reports that my niece was as fascinated with the name generators as we were. However, thanks to one of the names that popped up, Big Sister found herself having to explain what “arse” meant. Sorry, Big Sister. Wink.)
Eight more “Things:”
23. I wouldn’t trade growing up overseas for anything, despite the fact that my lack of familiarity with ‘60s, ‘70’, and early ‘80s American pop culture forces me to ask inane questions like, “What’s a Grinch?” And “How do I order pizza?” And “What does Kentucky Fried Chicken taste like?” And “How can I join the Mickey Mouse Club?” In trade for these few moments of excruciating embarrassment, I received yellow orchids growing on the tree right outside our front door; a night spent riding a train down the West coast of Malaysia, watching flying foxes glide through the air; monkeys swinging around outside the windows of our hotel room in Kuala Lumpur; a sister who majored in Chinese in college—which I still think is so cool; a chance to see the ethereal temples of Thailand, their red, blue, green and gold glass-mosaiced walls shining brilliantly in the sun and their bells ringing lightly in the wind; and food that puts everything I’ve eaten since to shame.
24. I have a Peruvian birth certificate, written in Spanish, which says my given name is “Ryan Morrissey y Fry” because in Hispanic countries your last name is traditionally a combination of your father’s and your mother’s. The last time I went to Canada, I hadn’t yet gotten my passport replaced, so I had to use my Peruvian birth certificate. The border crossing guards/customs agents raised a collective eyebrow and debated the certificate amongst themselves just long enough to make me nervous. Before I could go all bantam rooster on them and challenge them to a fight with my good friends the FBI agents, TMK waved her all-English American birth certificate at them, said “she’s with me,” and yanked me through.
25. My sign? Don’t know. Don’t care. Don’t believe in it. Okay, okay, okay, okay—Aquarius.
26. I am in awe of the universe, not the metaphysical, ethereal universe but the real, astronomer’s delight, nebula-laden thing. I can go outside and stare up at the sky for hours, or until I get a crick in my neck, or until my head explodes with trying to understand the distances between the stars, whichever comes first. Fortunately, TMK is also in awe of the universe, so she understands this. We have gone outside together in the wee—and I mean wee—hours of the morn on very cold nights to watch meteor showers. This is a cool thing to do with your significant other. We even have a constellation the way some people have a song: Cassiopeia.
27. Most people who meet me think I’m a b_tch at first. I don’t know why this is, but a lot of people who have subsequently become close friends have ‘llowed as how when they first met me they thought I was awful. Despite this…
28. I love meeting new people. Seriously. If I’m going to a party where there will be a whole bunch of new people, my tail starts to wag. TMK does not understand this.
29. I will always be grateful to my mother for endowing us with curiosity about the world, a respect for education, a love of classical music, a love of fine food, and our senses of humor. However, I will never forgive her for trying to get me to eat escargots or French onion soup.
30. Although I have never smoked or used drugs, I have consumed enough alcohol to know that Alcohol Is Not My Friend. One sip of alcohol and my face flushes bright red and starts to burn. And five minutes later I’m asleep. Yep, cheap date, and no one will ever know if I’m a mean drunk or the smarmy, maudlin kind.
Oh, my God. Is that only #30?
Posted by Ryan at December 15, 2004 12:38 PMWell, I will one-up the folks who think you are a bitch when they first meet you...I thought you were an ever-so-sweet gay man. You will recall we met on the GLBT knit list (which I no longer have time to read!) and I assumed (and you KNOW what that does..) you were a man (you know, Ryan) and I just thought it was oh-so-sweet you called yerself "mizz ryan".
so there, that is the embarrassing thing I did with your name when we first met online. :) I can't drink much either, and I'm sure no one wants me to as I become a mouthy broad.
Posted by: Lisa in Oregon on December 15, 2004 01:46 PMFret not, Lisa. You are in good company since I have been mistaken for a man SO many times (er, not in person, though). Having a man's name does cause problems online, mostly because people seem to be so disappointed when it turns out I am "just" another one of the millions of women who knit, not a cool and unique knitting dude. But I don't mind particularly; I just try to let people know up front I have no Y chromosome.
Posted by: Ryan on December 15, 2004 01:53 PM#30, a big ME TOO on all of it. But there is no way people think you're a b*tch. No freakin' way. Well, maybe. I'll just have to judge when I meet you. And when I meet you now, it's going to be with a VEWWY JAUNDICED EYE, MISSY. ;-)
And it's only 30, because yours are so much more detailed and in depth than everybody else's, rather than, like, "my favorite color is blue." You really are a deep and complex person. This frightens me. And I bet you are a b*tch when you are first met in person. Oh, wait, you already said that, and there I was thinking it was my original idea. (no, I'm NOT psychotic, thank you very much!) Just kooky.
What were your parents doing that took you so all over the world? I'm dying to know. But if you don't want to tell me, if they were like dope smugglers or something, I'll understand. It's ok. You can keep that to yourself.
Posted by: Norma on December 15, 2004 02:10 PMI'm laughing about your post office comments because I just walked in from the absolute, smoothest, best holiday time trip to the PO in the history of the universe! I went to the Wallingford station where there are year-round long lines and got the parking spot in front of the door and then marched up to the automated postal station with no one in line, paid my postage and left. It took about two minutes for the whole thing. In December! I'm shocked and ready to do a little happy dance. It's sad the things that can make me happy...
Posted by: Jessica on December 15, 2004 02:11 PMNorma, my father used to tease us by saying he was a CIA agent which is why we had to move so much, so dope smugglers or something equally undercover may not be that far-fetched. But the truth is much more mundane. He was a paper engineer who managed the building of lumber, pulp and paper factories. Which is why we lived in the tropics since that is where trees grow their bestest. And "deep and complex?" Nah! I just talk about myself too much.
Jessica, maybe there's a specific nanosecond when the real holiday rush begins, like oh, 12:01:01pm tomorrow, and you and I just missed it. (BTW, are you going to be at Guild tonight?)
Posted by: Ryan on December 15, 2004 02:25 PMumm, regarding fact #27- i'm sometimes regarded as a real b-tch by those who have gotten to know me!
as for the little problems encountered at borders with passport issues, i have a perfectly good passport and good identification, but i always manage to feel so discombobulated at check points that i look guilty and act witless-
what interesting things you got to see- hearing about them is fun-
stay happy-
Posted by: barb in texas on December 15, 2004 03:07 PMFunny. Most people think I'm an absolute sweetheart when they meet me. When they meet my hubby they think I'm a saint. When they really get to know me, they decide I really am not so sweet and that hubby and I deserve one another. Hmm.
Oh, and when I first found your blog, I too thought your were male. There was no picture posted at the time. That's my excuse and I am sticking to it. Then I went through the archive and read an entry where you were disliking getting together with family sometimes because you didn't enjoy feeling like "the weird lesbian aunt." I thought I had switched blogs for a moment. It threw me. I loved it. I love being thrown for a loop. It's like being on a mental roller coaster. Wheee!!! Then you posted your picture with your lovely sock and I had to come to terms with you actually being a very nice looking woman with a sense of humor to die for. I've felt the need to stalk you ever since.
:o)
Hope everyone has a great day!!
Posted by: Stalker Angie on December 15, 2004 03:30 PMOf course, Angie, I COULD have posted any darn old photo I wanted, the way people do in relationship chat rooms. In fact, I COULD actually be a big burly male named Bubba who has a five o'clock shadow, a beer belly and a hairy chest, who only wears dirty jeans and stained, torn undershirts, and who just doesn't want to come out of the knitting closet. But, no, I am indeed of the female persuasion. And thank you for the "nice looking." It's amazing what you can do with Photoshop these days. :-)
Posted by: Ryan on December 15, 2004 04:02 PMHey Bubba? I still would have stalked ya. It's yer sense of humor I'm after. Besides, I find beerguts sexy. Bwuahahaha
Posted by: Stalker Angie on December 15, 2004 04:25 PMI always manage to get in front of the little old ladies who insist on trying to ram their cart up my arse in the grocery store line! I try to be charitable and assume they just haven't had a chance to get those cataracts worked on yet and thus don't see well (in spite of the present hugeness of my arse), but ...
I love that you ask "inane questions" about American pop culture yet know who Senor Wences is!
TMK--I just bought some of *that* yarn. Oh. My God. As soon as I touched it in the store I had visions of you rolling about with it. I understand, my sister, I understand! (Though mine's purple.)
Posted by: Kristen on December 15, 2004 09:19 PM
Hey Ryan, There's actually a song titled Cassiopeia by Heidi Muller - she used to be local to Seattle. This link even has a clip of the song
http://scpweb.net/heidi/booksCDs.htm down near the end of the page.
#27 -- A bitch? Now I'm wondering which Ryan I know and first met! The one I initally met was no bitch! She's the hilariously funny lady I know today!
Hope the holiday party with the guild was good. I had to bail since I had a work party (obligational) party I had to attend at the same time.
Posted by: Rebecca on December 16, 2004 10:47 AMi'm with tmk on #28
Posted by: vanessa on December 16, 2004 09:05 PMBubba...... ROTFLMAO
Happy holidays Ryan....thanks for being such a funny person and letting us into your world with your time release 100 things.
PS. I also had a constellation with an ex, Orion, and i will never forget watching the northern lights with him one camping trip.