Let me do a few tricks
Some old and then some new tricks
I’m very versatile …
Sweet fancy Moses! First the Liebster Award and now this! Does my awesomeness know no bounds? I’d like to thank the lovely and talented Amanda at Write in the Wrong Way for this award. She smokes, she drinks, she swears and she’s a soccer mom! If we could just do something about her heterosexuality and that pesky husband of hers
she’d be the perfect woman for me. She also happens to be a terrifically funny writer and I must insist that you pop over and peruse her blog at your earliest convenience. Now would be a good time.
I’ve decided that I’m going to be somewhat versatile in my acceptance of this award – meaning I’m going to tweak the rules a bit. My primary reason for coloring outside the lines is that while showing genuine appreciation for thinking of them, a few of my Liebster nominees also expressed a bit of good-natured consternation at the homeworkiness of the blog award rule process – something I completely understand. As they say, or at least as they should say, the nominating is the hardest part.
These are the rules for The Versatile Blogger Award –
- Display the award certificate on your blog
- Announce your win with a post and thank the blogger who nominated you
- Present 15 deserving bloggers with the award
- Link your nominees in the post and let them know about their nomination with a comment
- Post 7 interesting things about yourself
Rule #3 is difficult because 15 is a lot and I nominated pretty many just last week. I’m not great with math, but I’m pretty sure that a lot + pretty many = a ton. However, I’m a big believer in recognition, so I’m going to tackle this one. Regarding #4, I am going to link to my blog nominees (who shall from this point be known as Bloginees), but when they come back here to see what all the fuss is about, I have the following message for them:
Dear Versatile Blogger Bloginees,
I chose you because you make me laugh, you’re just getting started or are going through personal struggles and I want to help you gain support, you’ve gone MIA and I’m hoping a nudge in the form of an award may spark your interest in getting back to blogging or I’ve followed and admired you for a long time but have never commented enough on your posts and this is my way of saying I like you, I really like you!
If going step by step through the rules seems like too much work, then only do the fun parts. Or do none of it and just bask in the glow of your nomination. You have been recognized, you are appreciated … conform or rebel, the choice is yours.
And finally, for rule #5, I am posting seven things about myself. Whether or not you find them interesting, I cannot guarantee.
1. I collect knives The first was a 3-bladed pocket knife I stole from a neighbor as a kid. I was subsequently forced to confess my crime when my mother found it in my possession; but taking pity on me and considering that I’d filched it from her junk drawer, the kindly neighbor allowed me to keep it and a hobby was born. My latest acquisition was a pink Kershaw that can be opened one-handed with a quick flip of the thumb.
I’m not a knife expert nor a connoisseur and only know that the pretty pink one is a Kershaw because the name is printed on the side. I simply like the way they look and feel; and I think I enjoyed the thrill I got as a wee tot, having something I wasn’t supposed to and instantly wanting more. Interestingly, that would turn out to be something of a theme in my life.
2. I’m terrified of, yet strangely obsessed with, serial killers Southern California in the 1980s was rather scary, serial killers seemed to be everywhere – The Night Stalker, The Hillside Strangler and The Freeway Killers. The city in which I grew up was, for a time, the home of William Bonin and Vernon Butts, the Freeway Killers.
Butts was an amateur magician and some of the boys from my street would go to his house to see him perform. I can only surmise they escaped becoming victims because Bonin, the alpha predator of the duo, wasn’t present at the time.
At the time, I was working at the pizza store owned by the family of my then boyfriend, and Bonin would come in occasionally for take-out. Of course we had no idea what he was up to then, but it feels strange now knowing I made pizza for a serial killer.
Having been in his presence, knowing more than I care to about the crimes he committed and realizing how easily someone like that can walk among us undetected is terrifying. But it also left me fascinated and wanting to learn more, as though understanding what makes them tick can somehow protect me.
3. I can’t dance Seriously, I’m awful. You know how people will say, “Oh get over yourself, no one is looking at you.” Well, they look at me. And then they look away, and then they look again – because that is train wreck protocol. There’s a well-known Seinfeld episode where Elaine dances and everyone is stunned into disbelief at the spectacle. I only wish I had moves as sweet as hers.
Having disclosed this fact about myself, my ego demands that I dispel a persistent myth. Despite rumors to the contrary, there is no correlation between one’s vertical talents on a dance floor and their horizontal talents in a more intimate setting. They are, in fact, mutually exclusive.
4. I have many power tools My arsenal goes beyond the standard drill and sander. I am the proud owner of a table saw, router, drill press, grinder, biscuit joiner, circular saw and other various and sundry items. My miter cuts and dovetails joints are things of beauty; and if I can’t buy the perfect bookcase or storage chest in a store, I’ll just go ahead and build it. I may not fit the typical lesbian mold in many regards, but get me in the vicinity of a tool belt and some new wood and I’ll go all stereotypical on your ass.
5. I like doing stop motion animation It’s not something I’ve done a lot or do often, as it’s quite labor intensive and time consuming; but it is something I enjoy and would like to do more. It fits in nicely with my love of video editing – my home movies actually won’t bore you to death (they have soundtracks and everything!), and gives me another creative outlet. Tim Burton has nothing to worry about, even one of the better ones I’ve done is barely amateurish … but I’m still kind of proud of it.
6. I have a crossbow pistol When my mom was a little girl growing up in New Jersey, some now forgotten incident caused her to become so angry and frustrated with her older sister that she laid in wait with her single-shot BB gun; and when her sister passed by, my mother emerged from her hiding place, snuck up behind my aunt, pressed the gun against her leg and pulled the trigger.
So great were the repercussions and her horror at what she’d done, she became convinced that given the means and opportunity, all children will murder their siblings over matters such as who gets the toy from the cereal box. Consequently, we were not allowed to have toy guns, or play with them or fake weapons of any kind (I should probably mention that although I was allowed to collect pocket knives, I was not allowed to touch them).
As adults, my younger brother and took our revenge. When we know our mother will be present, we gift each other with items specifically designed to delight ourselves and torment her – throwing stars, pellet guns, throwing knives – and one Christmas, I got the crossbow pistol. I treasure it.
7. I’ve never had a hangover Despite my best efforts and bouts of very enthusiastic drinking, I have nothing to contribute if the conversation turns to “worst hangover ever” stories; nor have I ever bowed to the porcelain god as a result of my indulgences. The best I can offer is that I’ve woken up very thirsty, chugged orange juice straight from the bottle and gone back to bed. This isn’t to say I don’t have stories that involve waking up the morning after and swearing never to drink again as a result of the previous night’s antics, I was just bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when I made those short-lived promises.
And now, my deserving Bloginees: