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All responses Most smiled responses
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Salty! Actually, it really depends on my mood, but when I get cravings it's usually for salty and/or greasy things, like pizza or burgers. But those both are usually enjoyed with sweet sweet soda.
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Okay, this is kind of weird, but I do long division in my head to figure out how far I've read in my current book, as a percentage.
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asked by Formspring
I do! I often chair-dance while eating, actually. My husband and I enjoy inappropriate dancing, such as doing the Macarena to AC/DC. It's a thing.
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Eleanore Stasheff. Unquestionably.
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My answer to this really depends on my mood. Sometimes I want a quiet retreat where I can art in peace. Other times I want to tour Europe. Some days I really want to see Alaska. Most of the time I'd like to get in the car and just go.
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Formspring question of the day
asked by FormspringYou know, I don't really have a preference. I mean, I'm not exactly what you might call photogenic, but I don't have issues with being on camera.
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A mummy. You're all dried out so you probably don't smell too horribly, and you get nifty cursing powers.
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My guess would be a much greater tolerance for pointless crap when one has more unpleasant tasks at hand. It's amazing what one will put up with if the alternative is bad enough. When you want to relax, the alternative is doing nothing, and in many ways that's far better than most of the crap on the internet.
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Because the Earth's atmosphere scatters the white light from the sun. The longer wavelengths (red, orange) pass through but because the blue light is scattered by molecules in the air, the sky appears blue to your eye.
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Let's see: USA, Canada, UK, Japan, Netherlands, Germany, Belgium, Switzerland, France, Luxembourg. So ten. Unless I'm forgetting one again. (This is like the third time I've deleted and re-answered this question. Dang.)
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I think it's safe to say that will never happen. I don't have to passion and drive for the editing/rewriting it would require, and I don't deal with rejection very well. My artistic ego is terribly fragile. I would need a staff of dedicated cheerleaders just to get the manuscript to the point where it's worth seeing the light of day, and then someone else to deal with researching the agents and publishers - and, most importantly, hiding the rejection letters from me.
Some time ago I decided that any short stories I particularly enjoyed I would just post online for all to see. (I still need to upload more. It's on my to-do list...and has been for over a year, I think. Hmm.) I finally came to the realization that the only other thing I'd do with them would be to file them away on my computer. Which is pretty silly: stories are meant to be told. -
TV in a heartbeat. When my husband's not around I can leave it off for weeks at a time. Let's be honest: if I ever long to watch something, Netflix and Hulu are only a click away.
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Home improvement. My dad knows pretty much everything about tools and construction and basic household repairs. I wish I knew all that stuff. I hate calling professionals - I'm always afraid they'll lie to me.
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Not much. I figure most of them are my sister.
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Well, it wasn't so much about knowing I was going to marry him than knowing that I was done looking. That probably happened within a couple months, though it was a good six months, when we started talking about moving in together (a first for me), that I accepted it consciously. I must have known something was up, though, considering we met in July and took each other to meet our families that fall.
The trouble with finding The One is that while you know when it's happened, you don't always know when it hasn't. For me, meeting Bill was like falling into step with someone - we had our own lives and friends and hobbies, and suddenly it felt totally natural to share them all with each other. I'm sure it's different for other people. -
Really cold. You can always pile on more clothing, but there comes a point when you can't take off any more. That, and I'm naturally warm (my friends call me the space heater), so when I'm too hot I sweat buckets. It's unpleasant.
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I have actually written a letter to my future self - an email, to be specific, that will arrive in my inbox several years from now. I can't recall exactly when, but hopefully whatever email address I sent it to will still exist. I can't remember what it said, which I suppose is kind of the point.
But you know, my old diaries are a little like letters to my future self. They're just less direct about it. -
You don't need a boyfriend to be happy. Really.
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Spanish would be the most useful, but I'd probably go for Japanese.
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Only two days since I started taking them regularly. (I have no idea how long I went between baths as a child.) I showered on Friday morning, went on a weekend camping trip, and then showered again the following Sunday evening when I got home.
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melydia’s Bio
Extraordinarily ordinary.
