It's a pylon...

...and this is a meme. Ganked (as is the right and proper technical term) from the usual suspect.


What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Sunday lunch at my grandparents'. Nan would always, always call me when she cut the cabbage because I simpy loved eating the stalk. I can still see it there: a bowl of washed and chopped cabbage with me grubbling about in the icy water to find the stalk and her laughing in the background about the "funny things that child loves to eat,"- I still do (eat weird things, that is).
It also makes me think of the last time I was in the UK and a particularly splendid lunch with a particularly splendid person and some very nice red cabbage on the side. Cabbage? A damn fine, happy thing.

Are you emotional?
So so? You'd have to ask someone who knows me, someone more objective and they'd probably say yes. I have been known to be a total emotional wreck over something ridiculous, with tears and mucus and puffy eyes and all of the unpleasantness usually associated with the emote-u-like character, but I do tend to clam up over the big stuff and I run a mile from hugs and comfort.

Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?
I have been told I shouldn't be allowed to eat ice cream in public as I am positively indecent. Think of that what you will. Summary: both but with relish.

Do you like your hair?
Me and my hair or regally speaking, My Hair And I, have a hate thing going on. It is bl00dy white at the front - just the front, mind - and so I dye/kill it. It responds to this by being generally as cr4p as hair can be and not doing anything to help my overall appearance. It thinned out because of The Child (growing a tiny alien inside you is not always conducive to healthy locks, kids - be warned), and also because I am generally very anaemic, and it tends to favour a "guess-who's-been-sleeping-in-a -weird-position?" look most of the time. At the moment it is kind of purple, very short and spiky. I like that - or I would, if it would spike the way it is supposed to.

Do you like yourself?
No. These memes always ask this question and my answer never varies. I am happy as I can be in my own company as I am well aware of my failings and faults and I can put up with them. I don't expect other people to have to do that and when they show an inkling of wanting to, or of finding me anything more than the unpleasant fool I am, then I am surprised and a tad confused. The Child (yes, she is the gift that never stops giving) likes me, though and in her infinite child-ey wisdom (read naivety), said yesterday: "You are hard to get on with, Old Lady, but you're my Old Lady and I do love you." *sniff*

Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
No. The ersatz grandparent has, I think - both with senior and junior. But that's what he does.

What are you listening to right now?
My friend's local radio show in the UK. It's a small radio station and he does a show for free, but he is good and I like his music and the sound of his voice makes me think of home in a good way for once.
He puts one track on for me every day and it has now become the "Daily Me" spot, although it is never at the same time. Two today, a "Double Daily Me": Motorhead and AC/DC (both requested by Yours Truly).

Are your parents strict?
My mother never really cared enough to be strict. I learned to be a quiet child at a very early age. My big love was my granddad, so all she had to do was threaten me with not going to spend the weekend there or simply with telling him of any minor misdemeanor and I was instantly back in default invisible and therefore, good child mode. As I got older, her presence became increasingly sporadic so any attempts at strictness were just ignored.
I didn't live with my father until I was 14 and by then, I wasn't going to take his attempts at strictness or even at parenting, with good grace. In his defence, I think he tried; in mine, I think he left it a bit late.

Would you go sky diving?
Oh good lord no!

Do you like cottage cheese?
I used to. My Saturday evening meal as a small kidlet was, at my instigation and I would have nothing else, cottage cheese, a Granny Smith, and lashings of crusty bread with butter, all eaten in front of the TV whilst watching Dr Who (the Tom Baker incarnation- *swoon*). Ah, good times...No, I don't eat it any more. It's called Jocca here and I don't like it much.

Have you ever met a celebrity?
Celeb or someone well known? I did once use Bill Bailey's toilet?

Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
Shiny rather than sparkly, but rather than shiny, covered in a fine layer of dust. Housework is not my forte.