deadly

LA over at Lacochran has tagged me for a meme. I love memes. The only thing I miss about being on MySpace is the bulletin memes, as annoying as they were, they were damned fun to do. And mine were good. No boring stuff there from me.

The concept: "Sometimes you can learn more about a person by what they don’t tell you. Sometimes you can learn a lot from the things they just make up. If you are tagged with this Meme, lie to me. Then tag 7 other folks (one for each deadly sin) and hope they can lie."
(Seriously? I just spent 20 minutes doing this meme for reals then I came back up here to add hyperlinks and I'm supposed to lie? Seriously? Is this why you are supposed to read the directions before you do your work? I've never been good at that. Especially on those tests in grade school where you are supposed to put T for falsies or do the 0/+ thing for true false because it is really a test in reading directions. I've read this meme about 8 times this morning on other people's blogs and you all were lying? Dammit. I'm telling the truth. I hate rules anyway. I don't believe in lying on this blog.).

Pride:
What is your biggest contribution to the world?
I think I've done a good job making other people feel a little bit less alone in the world by sharing my feelings and experiences and views on a whole bunch of things. Whether it is telling the world that sometimes I wanted to put my newborn baby in the trash and take it to the curb (it's just that he fit so perfectly in there when he was little, especially if he was all swaddled like a glowworm. That old Rubbermaid was practically designed to hold a small baby) or that sometimes I get mad or sad or glad at the darnedest of things, I like it when other people brighten up and say "me too!" and then we talk and talk and talk about what it is like to be us. About what it is like to feel all alone with a terrible secret that isn't so terrible after all.

Envy
What do your coworkers have that you wish was yours?
Ghetto booty and the luxury to sleep in on the mornings of the nights that we work late. When I work until 10 at night, I still have to get up at 6 to tend to the boy. Then I have to fit picking him up from daycare into my schedule, and make arrangements to have him taken care of from 4.30 or so until I get home six hours later. My coworkers can waltz into the office at 1.30 and take an hour-long dinner break like a normal person rather than showing up way early so they can run their skinny non-ghetto booty all over town to juggle the child. Flexible schedules are great, but the inflexible parts of your life sometimes mess that up.

Gluttony
What did you eat last night?
Two frozen pizzas from Trader Joe's when I got home from work because I didn't eat anything all day. Then I made nachos for dinner. Refried beans on the bottom, chips and cheese and corn and beans and Morningstar soy stuff and salsa verde and sour cream but not olives or halved cherry tomatoes because I didn't know I ran out of them so I didn't pick more up piled on top. In the oven at 375 for 10 minutes. Then I couldn't eat more than a few because I got an almond jammed up, point first, in the roof of my mouth the other day, right behind my front teeth and that little ridge that's there (feel it with your tongue) is now separated from the rest of my head and flapping down like an index fingertip. It's still bleeding, three days later. I should've probably gotten a stitch or two put in it, but work is busy these days and I just don't have the time. I wonder if it will ever close up or if I will spend my days like this. I decided to sterilize it before bed with a pintglass full of Crystal Light Fruit Punch and Bacardi. It isn't considered drinking alone if you are doing it for medicinal purposes.

Lust
What really lights your fire?
Nice teeth. Well shaped forearms and calves. Sweet leg hair and visible ankles. Tall sock wearers need not apply. Clean shaven necks. Tan lines. Brown hair and dark eyes. No Nordic features. I like the way wristwatches look. But hate it if I can smell them. Leatherbands are the leading contributor of watchrot, go stainless. Bulging pockets are icky. I like to eat, so a healthy appetite is a plus. I like to eat on the floor, tables are for suckers. Feed me like a picnicker and let me lay down after we are done. I need a minute to digest. I don't like ironed clothing. Who are these people who have time in their day to press their slacks? Get a damned life. I wish boys shaved their armpits. I love a shaved armpit. Beats the alternative, that matted deodorant-caked look. Smell good, not pretty.

Anger
What is the last thing that really pissed you off?
The City of Philadelphia, of course. It's contract time.
And Jake was a bastard last night, but he got sent to his room long enough for me to finish watching Season One of Rome on DVD. Being mean has it's perks.

Greed
Name something you hoard and keep from others:
Food. I don't share treats I buy for myself. My parents used to do the same to us kids, but we would sneak in their hideyholes and steal it anyway. I learned to hide it better, not that it was a jerky thing to do to people. My mom hid Archway Dutch Cocoa cookies and Corn Pops. My dad hid snack cakes and ice cream sandwiches. I have been known to squirrel away cake frosting in really rough times, graham crackers, Reese Pieces, peppered cashews, Hershey's miniatures, and Count Chocula cereal.

Sloth
What’s the laziest thing you ever did?
I routinely blow my nose in dirty shirts and underwear that're lying around if it's more convenient than getting up to get an acceptable snot receptacle. And when I used to wear contacts, and had the disposable kind, sometimes I would just take them out and swallow them rather than get off the couch and remove them properly. Breastfeeding was the lazy way out. Dammit if I was getting up to make and wash bottles. I was effing tired as it were, forget having extra chores.

Tag. Your it.