Mr. Paris Musings tagged me to tell 7 random things about myself, and first after calling it a grade schoolish idea, I really got into it. I in turn am tagging Petrea, and hope you enjoy this little activity.
Seven Random Things:
1- I was kicked out of French class early in seventh grade, not for my usual obnoxious behavior, but for lack of payment; I wouldn’t tell my parents that it was time to pay up again. I think I was full of guilt. I already knew that school was expensive, and French class was one more thing to pay for, not that we were pinching pennies, I just worried about things like that. However, I kept excusing myself from Science class on Thursdays for the next two years to go to “French class”. I would wander the halls; see if a sibling was having lunch in the hopes of catching an early lunch. Sometimes, if there was a substitute, half of the class would excuse themselves to go to “French class”. We would then wander as a gang, looking for stray art supplies, and possibly sneaking a smoke in the janitor’s closet.
2- I attended grade school at no lie, Little Flower. The public school kids called us “Big Weed”.
3- I have six brothers (although one died when I was 14) and a sister. It’s made me a little tough.
4- In high school French class, someone in my class would throw pennies at a metal cabinet, and then a couple of us would volunteer to look for the “culprits” up and down the hallways. Sr. J-M appreciated our helpfulness. I fell in love with St. ExupĂ©ry’s Little Prince in this French class. I really did appreciate Sister J-M; I was just predisposed to a bit of naughty behavior.
5- I loved Fort Scott Camp.
6- I went to Woodstock II in 1994 with my friend Jennie. I had to go. Whenever I watched the real Woodstock I got so upset that I’d missed it. We heard some awesome music- Dee Lite, Cheryl Crow, Peter Gabriel, Crosby, Stills and Nash, Melissa Etheridge, Bob Dylan, Aerosmith… And while waiting in line at a Thai food booth, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and there is my brother who lives on the West Coast! Among hundreds of thousands of people, we run into each other. Later, while sleeping in Jennie’s car in Saugerties at the “purple parking lot” because I broke the key off in the ignition, a panicked clown knocked on the window in the middle of the night, and pleaded for us to “stick our heads out the window, and let ‘em know we’re here!” When later she knocked again, I feigned sleep and muttered to Jennie, “Don’t answer, it’s the clown.” But not to worry, the next morning, the clown, now lacking much of the clown makeup and appearing in her 50’s, rode off on the back of her son’s motorcycle. It was a most hallucinatory experience without any trace of acid or drugs (or alcohol).
7- When I travel out of town away from my family, I leave my husband a list of songs I’d like to have played at my funeral (just in case). They include:
Nightingale by Norah Jones,
I’m Feelin’ Allright by Joe Cocker
Joni Mitchell’s Circle Game
Enya’s Orinoco Flow
Peter Gabriel’s Shaking the Tree
Crosby Stills and Nash (and Young?)’s 49 Bye Bye’s
Youssou n’ Dour’s Celebration
What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong
Downtown by Petula Clark
A Beausoleil song
This is just a start, and I hope no artists are hurt in my mentioning them alongside my funeral plans.
Tuesday 15 April 2008
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3 comments:
I hate being "tagged" for these things. I think it just means they're too lazy to read your blog to get the information themselves, or they're hoping you'll reveal some secret you've kept hidden from the general public.
That'll be one long funeral.
Okay, not really for the funeral, more for the "party" afterwards. And there's gotta be a Rolling Stones song, maybe Gimme Shelter, and Chuck Prophet's Summertime Thing.
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