This has been flying around (via Healingmagichands and the Quotidian Vicissidude). It always intrigues me a bit to find out my own answers to a list of questions like this.
1. Who was your first prom date? I boycotted the prom with the class egghead, who could neck while playing Bach and never miss a note (his parents never came down to check on what we were doing in the music room).
2. Do you still talk to your first love? I’m not even sure who qualifies for the title, but no. It wasn’t the Bach guy. I mean, are we talking first crush, or first blow job, or what exactly?
3. What was your first alcoholic drink? Ringnes Norwegian lager, which my father drank.
4. What was your first job? Answering phones for the gigantic egos in NBC’s Washington Network News Bureau, with absolutely no training. I answered Tom Brokaw’s phone when he was the rookie on the team. Guys in bow ties hit on me. If you don’t think that’s scary, you’re not thinking.
5. What was your first car? A godawful Dodge Coronet that handled like a boat.
6. Who was the first person to text you today? I don’t text.
7. Who is the first person you thought of this morning? Isaac Newton, because I fell asleep reading the Opticks.
8. Who was your first grade teacher? Mrs. Bells or Bales. I never figured out which. She taught us a bit of French, but could not keep me in my chair.
9. Where did you go on your first flight in a plane? New York City. I and another kid in my English class were finalists in the Scholastic poetry contest and there was a reception where we talked to old lady writers in Red Cross shoes. If that poem ever sees the light of day again I will strangle the person responsible. I won a typewriter.
10. Who was your first best friend and do you still talk? I had two best friends in grade school. One got all caught up in “The Struggle” and became far too noble-spirited in her pursuit of Betterment for the Indigenous Masses to talk to the likes of me. The other one killed herself after her freshman year at Brown, so I don’t talk to her any more, either.
11. Where was your first sleepover? At one of their houses, but I can’t really remember which.
12. Who was the first person you talked to today? My genial engineer friend, who likes to stop by on his way to work. He removed Isaac Newton from the duvet.
13. Whose wedding were you in for the first time? Mine. It barely qualified as a wedding. It was also the last. I am wily.
14. What was the first thing you did this morning? Fed the cats.
15. What was the first concert you went to? Anyone’s guess, because my father played in the US Army Band, and I remember hearing them perform when I only came up to people’s thighs.
16. First tattoo? Only artificial ones, but they were fun when I was dating a Republican; it drove some of his cronies crazy, to the point they referred to me as “the tattooed Lesbian.” Given the nature of the connection, I never quite figured out how they arrived at this sobriquet.
17. First piercing? Does lancing a boil count?
18. First foreign country you went to? Britain. Rebound romance is probably a dumb reason to go abroad but it reduces hotel bills.
19. First movie you remember seeing? The Music Man. I wanted to be Marian the Librarian.
20. What state did you first live in? Virginia. Still do.
21. Who was your first room-mate? I have never had one, thank Goddess.
22. When was your first detention? I made it a point of honor never to do things that would get me detention, just for the sake of moral leverage.
23. If you had one wish what would it be? Just enough in the bank that I don’t wake up every morning feeling like there’s a gun to my head. Enough would be enough.
24. What is one thing you would learn, given the chance? How to draw.
25. Who will be the next person to post this? Well let’s find out shall we?
I saw this over at Ellie’s and may also do it myself. Whether that will make me the next person remains to be seen.
It’s always interesting finding out “little things” about people when reading these me-me’s.
“Maaaaaaaa-rian!” I wanted to be her too, if only to sing “There were bells, on the hills” which is a wonderful song. What a great movie.
Wily, indeed. I wasn’t, I’ve been in two of my own weddings. Thank Goddess I wasn’t wily enough to escape the second, it has been a blessing.
Does anyone remember Paul McCartney rather disastrously performing that song on one of the early Beatles albums? It sounded so, so wrong…
Yes, lancing a boil does count
In that case, somewhere in my late twenties I’d say, after I bought my first leather lifting belt and before it softened up enough to quit rubbing.
ouch ouch ouch
I do remember Paul McCartney … and how funny the song sounds with his wrong-side-of-the-tracks accent, particularly his hard “g” in the words “ringing” and “singing.”
#16 is hilarious.
It was a random inspiration (the fake tattoos in item 16, I mean): I showed up to collect the guy at a local government meeting, wearing a visor and sunglasses, leather halter, Daisy Dukes, biker boots, two or three fake tattoos and a studded jean jacket slung over my shoulder. It was a great way to start a tradition and stop a meeting.
“First tattoo? Only artificial ones, but they were fun when I was dating a Republican; it drove some of his cronies crazy, to the point they referred to me as “the tattooed Lesbian.” Given the nature of the connection, I never quite figured out how they arrived at this sobriquet.”
Oh what memories! To think, you turned them into books.
When the moderate chair was elected, the hard right wing losers claimed their loss was due to the “leftist-lesbian wing of the party.” I heard this from one of them and replied: “You got me on that lesbian accusation.”