The Monday Minute was so much fun last week, that I've decided to go for it again. Well also, I've been camping with Jude's Cub Scout Pack again this weekend, and I'm so exhausted and sunburned that I can't think of anything else to do. More on the Cub Scouts at some later date. So Ian at The Daily Dose of Reality has kindly sent me his Monday Minute list...
1 - How much would you have to be paid to eat a human cadaver's finger?
There is no amount of money on the Planet Earth that would convince me to eat a human cadaver finger. I can only conceive of two circumstances under which I would ingest human flesh - a) If I were in some sort of Donneresque situation, and eating the finger of another, already deceased, party member was the only way I could survive. Though there's probably not a lot of meat on a finger, and a chunk of thigh would be heartier. b) If a crazed criminal threatened to end the life of my child if I didn't eat a human finger. Why, exactly, he/she would choose to do this, I can't imagine. Hopefully, the finger will come with fava beans and a nice Chianti.
2 - Describe the worst physical fight you've ever been in.
Only once in my life have I either hit or been hit by another person. I was about 17, and my mother and I got into a huge argument about something or other. I was going through a particularly ugly teen-bitch-on-wheels phase, and I was certain that Mama was THE stupidest woman in the world. At the height of the argument, I screamed at her that she was "A BITCH". At which point, Mama hauled off and slapped me across the face. We both stopped, stunned, and stared at each other in disbelief. We then both started to sob uncontrollably, hug, and say "I'm sorry" over and over. Now that I'm older, and understand parenting, I can't say I blame her. I'm sure I deserved it.
3 - Name one song that if you never heard it ever again, you'd be thrilled.
Listen if you dare...
4 - Describe the "drunkest" situation you've ever been in.
It was Jimmy's 40th birthday, and I threw him a huge blowout bash. Somehow, the party got a wee big out of control. It all started out rather elegantly, but quickly devolved. We had crazily invited every person we knew in the city, but never actually kept a head count of who was or wasn't coming (this was before the dawn of the Evite.). Then, Jimmy started inviting every random stranger he ran into. The place was PACKED, wall to wall drunken people. Eventually, the police showed up to quiet us down. Meanwhile, I kept being lured into the bathroom by my friend Johnny, who had a "special private" bottle of tequila. I'm not exactly sure how many trips to the bathroom I took with Johnny, but I'm thinking at least 10. Then, as the evening went on, I decided to make a giant batch of sangria, which I placed in a punch bowl on the coffee table, and handed out straws. We all just gathered around it and slurped. At some point in the evening, according to witnesses, I announced that I was going to retire to the bathtub, and invited anyone who cared to, to join me. Luckily for me and my marriage, no one took me up on the offer. I proceeded to relax, naked and drunk off my ass in a bubble bath for several hours, while the party raged around me. Periodically, someone would come in to check on me to make sure I hadn't drowned. I think that I dozed on and off while in the tub, but my memories of the event aren't clear. I also believe that at some point I moved from the bathtub to the toilet, vomited, then got back in the bathtub. The next day wasn't pretty. Neither was the condition of our house.
5 - What's your biggest regret?
Wow. That's tough. I hate regrets. I really genuinely try to forget mistakes I've made in the past, and move on. To not consider them mistakes, but just choices that led me to where I am. That said, I guess my biggest regret would be not being patient and loving enough with my mother. Our mother/daughter relationship was probably, in many ways, pretty typical. We loved each other deeply, but also fought like cats and dogs (see above). The problem was that we were probably too much alike. But I, because I so desperately wanted to declare my independence, was often impatient with her, didn't take enough time for her, didn't share with her. It wasn't really until after Daddy died, and we were all that we each had, that we finally started to have a loving, respectful adult relationship. And then she died. Now that I'm of a certain age, and finally have a child of my own, I love and respect her so much, and so very much admire all the things she did, what a wonderful mother she was, and how far she came in her life. And I miss her tremendously, and dearly wish I could have told her this. I do however, believe that she knows it, and that she's always with me. Let this be a cautionary tale.
Alright, that's Monday. Head over to Ian's for other takes on these same 5 questions. I'm going to go drink a glass of wine and soak my feet.