I'm Housecleaning, dum de dum

Not in my house, dummy. Here, on my blog. It's coming up to the anniversary of ByJane and I thought--ya know, Jane, this blog looks like shit. So I'm sweeping with new brooms and swabbing the decks and whatever else I get the notion to do.

Meanwhile, Liz over at Inventing My Life tapped me for a meme. At first I thought--oooooooooooooohhh nooooooooooo. But when I read her responses, they were so interesting, I got inspired (I think there are too many clauses for one sentence there, but whatever...). So, here's the program:
1) Link to your tagger and list all these rules in your blog.
2) Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3) Tag 7 people at the end of your post by including links to their blogs.
4) Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Random Weird Facts:
1. I invest all objects, living and not, with feelings. Today at the drugstore, I picked up a small poinsettia that had been knocked over. I had the same feeling doing it as I would have picking up a small child that had been knocked over. More, maybe, because the small child would probably have others to care about it, but the small poinsettia? Who does it have but me?

2. I stay up late and I sleep late. That embarrasses me because I know I live in a world of early risers. I'm working on accepting that these are my natural rhythms. So shut up if you're judgmental.

3. I DO NOT LIKE TO CLEAN. Have I mentioned this before? Only ninety million times. I just never got the cleaning gene...what can I say? So shut up if you're judgmental--or don't come over...or prepare to listen to my endless excuses.

4. I would give up my talent at writing if I had an equally good singing voice. I don't. But I do so love to sing. But you would not love to listen to me.

5. I am lactose-intolerant but every night I have a glass of milk when I'm reading in bed. I can, because I live alone. Maybe I live alone because I can and do. Ya think?

6. My feelings get hurt so fast it would make your head spin. My mother kept trying to get me to get a "thicker skin." All I got was an ability to look and sound like I don't give a shit, when inside I'm dying.

7. I'd rather laugh than anything else. The most important A#1 thing about a friend to me is--sense of humor. If you ain't got one, we're not gonna get along.

Seven People I've Tagged:
1. Margaret at Nanny Goats In Panties
2. Fran at Merlot Mom
3. Shani at Rat Phooey
4. Karen at MidLife's A Trip
5. Susan at StonyRiver Farm
6. KJ at Nana Diaries
7. Ellen at Girl's Garden of Menopause

Whew! Am I done yet?

A Test of My Personality

My Personality

Neuroticism	17
Extraversion	43
Openness to Experience	96
Agreeableness	57
Conscientiousness	22

You are a calm person who is considered almost fearless by some, however you don't usually get angry too easily but some things can annoy you. You are not prone to spells of energetic high spirits. You are a moderately imaginative person who enjoys a good balance between the real world and fantasy. You find helping other people genuinely rewarding and are generally willing to assist those who are in need. You find that doing things for others is a form of self-fulfillment rather than self-sacrifice, however you feel superior to those around you and sometimes tend to be seen as arrogant by other people. You have a strong sense of duty and obligation, and feel a moral obligation to do the right thing.

Take a Personality Test now or view the full Personality Report. PureAwakening Jewelry.

Of course tests like this are only as good as the nut case answering the questions!

Connections...

So here's the meme for which I was tagged (get that grammar, suckas) by Babs at AWalkabout. As she wrote, so do I:

• Once you are tagged, link back to the person who tagged you.
• Post the rules on your blog.
• Post 7 random or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
• Tag 7 people and link to them.
• Comment on their blog to let them know they have been tagged.

Fact the First: When I was 14, I won a date with a pop star.

Fact the Second: I skipped Twelfth Grade.

Fact the Third: My cousin's son is married to Robert Redford's daughter.

Fourth Fact: I would like to be a poultrytarian--that is, a person who refuses on matter of conscience to eat chicken.

Fifth Fact: A friend told me yesterday, and I agree, that I'm easily bored and bitchy.

Six: I struggle with completing things, all things, and my life, house, and career show that.

7: I wish I were athletic, and I'm sure that somewhere there's a sport I'd be good at, but thus far, I haven't found it.

And I'm tagging: House of Prince, Citizen of the Month, Thursday Drive, AsKatKnits, ToadyJoe, Nannygoatsinpanties, AverageJane.

Missing Memer

Someone tapped me for a meme on her blog, but I can't remember who. Was it you? Please identify yourself. It was my honest intention to post my answers to that meme for today's Blog365. Obviously(hah!), I can't since I've lost the memer. Sorry.

Interview With A Blogger: Me!

Herein forthwith follows the interview that Whoorl dreamt up for me as part of Citizen of the Month's Interview challenge. Whoorl's questions are in purple, the choice of color being mine, for no reason whatsoever.

If you were forced to blog about one (and only one) subject, what would it be?
ME! I know what Whoorl's trying to do, get me to focus on that one thing that stands between me and success: my inability to focus on one topic. But I can't. Don't you think I want to? Nor can I, it seems, professionalize this blog. That was my intention, and I did, in pursuing it, pay lots of money to go to BlogHer. But whatever they were selling doesn't seem to have taken with me. Maybe I'm just not cool enough or young enough or or--maybe I just don't care enough. I dunno. I see people to-ing and fro-ing with their blogs and pitching for blog awards and doing all this stuff that seems so incredibly "high school" to me. I simply can't sustain it.

What is your beverage of choice?
It depends upon the time I am choosing. In the morning, I’m a coffee-drinkin’ girl. I like it strong, full-bodied and rich, tasting like coffee, dammit. Come afternoon, I switch to Diet Coke, out of the can. Come evening, I prefer l'eau de potato, Russian preferably, over rocks with a twist. Stoly...Grey Goose. Or a Gin Martini (is there any other kind?) straight up with 3 olives. What I don't like are frou frou drinks: all those Tinis they've created to give people something sweet and sickly to get them gassed. Sissies.

Tell me why Northern California is a lovely place to live.
Who said it was? Not me. I've lived all over--here, there, and everywhere--and what I've learned is that every place and no place is lovely to live in. I'm here because my SoonTBX wanted to move here. Okay, okay, I wasn't exactly tied up and shipped to Sacramento, but if it hadn't been for his gentle urging, which manifested as constant whining and complaining and a pervasively permanent bad mood, I would still be living in LA. And probably right now my roof would be leaking because they're having terrible rains down there and that's what my roof did when it rained. Instead I am up here, sealed in tight, warm and dry in this wasteland called Elk Grove. And my SoonTBX is living elsewhere. And his roof is leaking. Ha! Karma!

Who is your favorite author?
Doing the coursework for a PhD in English Lit sort of ruined reading novels for me. Once you learn how to deconstruct a text, there's no going back to just reading for pleasure. When I did my MA, I did it in Southern Lit, and then Faulkner was my favorite. When I started my PhD, I thought I'd be an "Austen scholar" (la-de-dah), but my professor was insane and that sadly tinged my doctoral work with intense nutsiness. I haven't read Austen since I didn't have to, and I'm certainly not watching Austen month on PBS. Jane would be appalled.

What would your friends say is your most charming quality? Most annoying?
Oh, jeeze, I haven't a clue what they'd say is my most charming quality. Truth be told, I don't think of myself as one who could ever be labeled charming. I don't crook my little finger when I drink tea and although my manners are passable, I don't think the Vanderbilt's will be inviting me to join the cotillion. I will say that when I saw the film Steel Magnolias, I recognized a quality in the Shirley McLaine character that made me say, "that's what I'm going to be like when I grow up." And I believe I am, for good or ill.

That I speaketh the truth, even when I probably shouldn't is probably my most annoying quality. And that I speak it as if my truth is The Truth can and does create some moments of angst for those around me. I'm working on that, though, because I really don't believe in an Essential Truth, so to sound as if I do is antithetical to...to...my truth.

In 2006, you mentioned wanting to "be more present in you life". Do you feel you have accomplished this goal?
I am more present in my life, but it's an ongoing goal which I don't believe one ever accomplishes. I'm just starting out with little baby steps and lots of backsliding and falling down and smashing my nose flat. But one of the ways in which I have gotten better relates to the first question. I'm somewhere in the middle of working my way through the bullshit of being A Blogger. I am trying to quell all urges to write to please an audience. I am trying to at the least be true to me in this thing I do.

Up & Coming: as in Coming Up

Here's what y'all have to look forward to in the very near future:

• One interview with Akaky Bashmachkin. Who? Don't ask me--yet. Why? Neilochka has an interview meme thing going. I signed up. Akaky signed up after me. Whoorl signed up before me. So Whoorl interviews me and I interview Akaky. She's already got her questions posted. I am still doing research (as in, where was that site again & what's it about?). I'm not really sure how this will work as the instructions are relatively vague. But when I find out, you'll find out.
• A book review. Hungry Hill, by Carole O'Malley Gaunt. Pretty damn good. But I'll have more to say about it tomorrow. Or the next day. I have been realllllllllly busy, and that pisses me off.
• More babbling, blathering and...and....what's another 'b' word--ah, bitching.

Interview With A Blogger: The Official Version

Whit, over at HoneaExpress, didn't start this, but he's the one who caught my attention. These are the rules, as quoted by Whit:

That's it. According to the rules, which I am a stickler for, I am to post this information: Interview rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with a post containing your the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

And here are the five questions that Whit asked me:
.

1.� You've bitten me twice, turning me into a vampire and a zombie, respectively.� What's up with that?
There are many responses that come to mind and tongue here, but the truth is--I thought you bit me. The fact is that there aren't that many kids in my sandbox, so you get picked a lot. I would spread the wealth a little, but having freelanced, I know a needy soul when I see one. There is nothing quite like looming deadlines for shit that you don't want to do to make one pump up the effort in other arenas. When I was freelancing, I had perfectly plucked eyebrows. Used to keep a little mirror and tweezers by my computer and groom away when the writing got rough. So, consider my bites as invitations to play when you're so inclined.

2.� I've had dogs my whole life and I have never seen one in a carseat until your Molly. �Did you come up with that?
I wish I had invented carseats for dogs; I'd be rich if I had. I just googled it and got 3,120,000 hits for dog carseats. We got ours when we travelled a lot with our Yorkie, and she would slip and slide all over the place. Perhaps your dogs have all been on the larger side? Perhaps they are used to riding around in the back of your pickup?

3.� You said that you have a lot of books by your bedside.� Do you always have that many, or do you dwindle the list down before building it back up?
I neither dwindle, nor build. I just haven't edited the list...because I would have to figure out the code for strikethrough, and that would be a pain. But since you bring it up, I will revise my list. And update. And maybe even annotate. I cannot go to sleep without reading in bed for a while. Milk and chocolate helps as well.

4.� Did you ever feel bad that you didn't include me in your list of people you met at the L.A. Blogger Party?� It's because I teased you about the apron, isn't it?
I didn't?! Well, now I do feel bad. Maybe it's because I went straight from meeting you to putting you on my Google Daily Reads list. That's a pretty big deal, you know. Not many people are on it.

5.� The URL for your site is one letter off from a site full of naked men.� Did you do this on purpose?
Are you going to make me guess the letter? And how do you know?

And who's being interviewed here, you or me? Or is this a case of, enough about me, let's talk about you--what did you think of what I just said??????

Well, that was enlightening, wasn't it. If you want me to interview you, follow the rules in green above.

Me, The Meme....



Me in 10 seconds? Holy shit. Would that be the witty me or the wise one? The goofy me? Or the shy one? The academic? The shrink? The political junky? The newly-single woman? Too many choices; too little time. I'm a writer, and my blog is my magazine. Kinda like Life, except my byline's ByJane.



Technorati link: Hit me again, Sam....

Why I Write

I am quite sad today. It has been a week since any contact with D. I’m having those moments of abject amazement that after decades living in each other’s pockets, we have come to this. I don’t know how he feels about it, obviously, but I’m assuming he’s okay with it. Doin’ all right. Makin’ out. Whatever.

How do guys do that, turn their backs so completely on a relationship? It happened to me once before, in college. One minute I had a boyfriend and the next he was telling me that he had succeeding in putting me out of his mind. An act of will, to what end I’m not sure. Maybe that summer vacation was beginning. Maybe that I wouldn’t put out. I still remember sitting in the park, at night, on a bench and listening to him say that he’d just made up his mind not to care for me anymore. My mouth is still hanging open at that one.

I’m not writing this for publication, particularly. Maybe I’ll put it on ByJane, probably I will as I’m not uncomfortable revealing the things I do. But I don’t want, as another blogger put it, a pity party. Mostly I’m up, or at least even-keeled. I think when I have to talk about the situation to others, it puts me in a funk of sorts. Yesterday I had lunch with a friend, and though she wasn’t at all nosy, I ended up spending more time with those words about the situation in my head and mouth than was good for me. And last night at knitting, a friend asked how I was doing. She asked out of concern, to be supportive, but what I thought was, I don’t want to have to think about it enough to articulate something reasonable and truthful to someone who is not inside my head. But I did answer her, and maybe that’s why I had a painful dream of D and the situation he has created, and I woke up feeling sad. And now, quite sad.

But this is why I write. Because somehow, after saying all this, I don’t feel so sad anymore. Why is that? Because I've said what I'm feeling, I've communicated my state to the outside world. It's not just holed up on my heart where unspoken, it can fester. It doesn't matter that it's just me and the laptop (and Molly, the faithful dog) here in my office. I 'm writing to people who I know read my words, even if I don't actually know my readers face-to-face.

The meme on BlogRhet asked: Can you point to a stage where you began to feel that your blog might be part of a conversation? Where you might be part of a community of interacting writers? When did that happen for me? In stages, incrementally, often microscopically. First, there were the people I actually had relationships with before blogging, and then came the people I met through blogging. And then people who I've never seen and maybe never will. But they're in my heart and--

--I just realized--they're in my head. They are the people in my head for whom I am "articulat[ing] something reasonable and truthful." And the act of doing so to my blogging community is vital to me. Non-bloggers often assume that what we do is just an on-line journal, and for some that may be. But for me, it goes beyond the bounds of a journal. My journals over the years are so full of woe and pathos, even I can't bear to read some of them. I just spill it all out there, guts on the page, inarticulate, pure emotion.

In fact, I started this post in my journal and you can see by the change in font where I switched to the Blogger post. It was at the point where I realized that I had written myself out of sadness, and set about to figure out why and how. And I recalled the moment, round about the middle of the second paragraph where I made the choice of voice, my voice, the voice of ByJane, which is totally different from that of my journals. It was a deliberate choice, and it signaled my intent to work at articulating what was reasonable and truthful. To write and revise, rework and rethink so that I'm telling all of you what I am feeling right now. Not shouting to myself on some private pages.

Because I am part of a community of bloggers, I know I'm being heard. And that makes me not alone.

Blogito ergo sum....indeed.

To Tell The Truth...

...about the bold-faced lies.

5. My athleticism is such that I could be a professional swimmer if only it didn't require my getting wet.
This is my problem with all swimming, be it pool or ocean, mighty flail or dip of toe: it's the wetness factor. I don't like it. Because it's--wet. What can I say? Maybe my mother bathed me too often as a baby. Maybe I was a harpooned whale in another life. Whatever, I avoid it at all costs when it takes place outside the boundaries of my toilette. Even as a child, I wasn't partial to the water. I didn't avoid it then as I do now, but once in, I was never quite sure what to do. Was there any pleasure in mindlessly churning up and down and aisle? Noooooooooooo. So what else was there to do? Once in high school and college, there were some other interesting things to do, provided a person with a penis was present. But beyond that, and now past that, what's the point?

The real lie, however, is in the first clause, the one about my athleticism. Ha! And double ha!

8. I am a neat-freak who would rather clean than do anything else.
Let's put it this way: I feel about cleaning as I do about getting wet. What's the point? The endless, endless monotony of it. O, whine whine mighty whine. Thus, I have cherished several adages told to me by women in the know. My first mother-in-law once said, "Tidy little people have tidy little minds." And my own mother insisted, "I didn't bring my daughters up to be maids." I didn't know what she meant until I realized that most mothers had their daughters doing Saturday morning KP as a regular stint, to teach them how to clean, for chrissakes, to instruct them in the humble but worthy arts of housewifery. Mine didn't.

9. I have been pregnant three times.
With laughter, as my mother would say. But not with baby, fetus, or even a lowly zygote. I've written about this before. It wasn't intentional and I do keep my eye on those oldest mom in the world stories. I've still got some time to go, I figure, if the upper limit is 6o-something. But to date, no: never had a bun in the oven.

So there you have it, the truth about my bold-faced lies. Ten tales, only four are false. That leaves 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, and 11 as the truth. The facts, m'am (and you sirs as well), just the facts.....

I Feel Sleepy, Very Sleepy, So Slee--

I'm fine as long as I'm upright, but the moment I sit at the computer, I begin to sink into the chair and drone into some slllllloooooooooowwww alpha state. I'm trying to do stuff, to get things done, to achieve and make much of my life, but I feel sleepy, so sleepy--!

This morning on my long walk with Molly, I saw a huge white rabbit, complete with big, perky ears. I did a double take. To see a hare on my walk, or ducks, geese, edible birds of all sort is not unusual. But a white rabbit? The Easter Bunny? And it was --did I mention this--huge. I know I saw it, but my life is such that maybe I didn't. Or maybe it was my father come down to beat the shit out of D for abandoning his little girl. You can see where my mind is these days.

Speaking of my father (yes, the emparadised one), did I ever tell you that I carry a picture of him in the console of my car? Sort of like a photographic St. Christopher. Yesterday I took it out--because I was stuffing yet another gas receipt in the console--and put it in my Date Book, which I was carrying to my appointment with the lawyer. What do you think of them apples, Harold Darling, I asked him. He didn't answer, but I can tell he isn't pleased.

The response to my Meme in Quarter Time was so fantastic that I've had to forego the prizes, since there were so many I couldn't possibly choose. I will now, however, begin the backstories. Don't know how far I'll get today, because remember that I feel sooooo sleeeeeepy. So maybe I'll just get the Bold-faced Lies out of the way to begin with:

4. I love Progressive Jazz.
Wrong. I hate Progressive Jazz. It is the only kind of music I have absolutely no tolerance for. Rap, yes. Country/western, certainly. Rock, pop, folk, and classical--yep, yep, yep, and yep. Progressive Jazz--nope. It's just noise to me. I get that there are improvisations and trills and drills and recurring whatevers, but that's all intellectual as far as I'm concerned. Maybe I'm not smart enough. That has occurred to me, since my sense is that Progressive Jazz is the province
of intellectuals. If so, call me dumb; or call me someone who needs more melody, more heart, more emotion in her music.

Ten Bold-Faced Lies, a meme in quarter time

Karen, formerly of Troll Baby now renamed Vodkarella, has a meme going that appeals to me, for various reasons. She's created a list of ten personal statements, some of which are true and some of which are bold-faced lies, i.e., patently untrue, that is, without verisimilitude. She's asking people to guess which are the true and which are the false. Every couple of days, she writes the backstory of one of the truths. And she seems to be awarding some sort of prizes, which seem to be some sort of YouTube hit, but I could be wrong about that. Whatever. I came in the middle of the contest, just enough time to steal it for my own (in the writing biz, this may be called collaboration). I like the idea because it is (a) interactive (which they say is just a down home bonus for all blogs), and (b) it gives me something to write about other than the sorry state of my affairs.

So--here are my ten statements, some true, some not. Which are which? You can answer in comments, or email me (my email is somewhere on this site, isn't it?????). I will find something suitable with which to award the winners. And I will be posting the back-stories as the contest progresses (and even if it doesn't--so there!)

1. I won a date with a famous pop star when I was in high school.
2. I have never been a blonde.
3. After three years of high school I went to college, and after three years there, I was asked to leave
4. I love Progressive Jazz.
5. My athleticism is such that I could be a professional swimmer if only it didn't require my getting wet.
6. I once peed in my pants in the street in New Barnet, Herts.
7. The name I go by now is not the name I used to go by, but it is the name I went by once.
8. I am a neat-freak who would rather clean than do almost anything else.
9. I have been pregnant three times.
10. In sixth grade, I was named Miss Irresponsibility and held the record for being paddled more than any other student, female or male.

Mememememe -- Take Two

I got tagged the other day by Jennifer over at The Verges for the Four Whatever's meme. I did it last year when I was a Live Journal, but since almost no one ever read my blog there (but the someones who did are very important, I hasten to add), I thought I would redo it. There would probably be a nice compare and contrast essay in it for anyone wanting to look at how my answers are the same and/or different (no prizes though).

Four jobs I've Held
Only four? Jesus, I did that sometimes in one month. I have been a tad peripatetic in my journey through the working world. To say the least. How about four jobs I've held in which writing was the gig.

• Beat reporter for KPFK Pacifica Radio and The LA Free Press (before it became a porno rag)
• Freelance magazine journalist for lots and lots and lots of national and regional magazines
• Production Coordinator of PBS documentary, The West of the Imagination
• Wrote a book published by Doubleday called How to Get Your Child Into Commercials and Modeling. Yes, I know, sterling title--I called it The Commercial Kids, but Doubleday renamed it. This was the single most disgusting experience of my life. I am still bitter.
  

Four Movies I Can Watch Over & Over
I mostly can't do that anymore, but when I could it was

• Gidget, Gone With The Wind, An Officer and a Gentleman, Gone With The Wind. Oh, I said that already.
  

Four Places I've Lived

• Pittsburgh, PA - born and raised there
• London, England - and some other smaller cities in England for short periods of time while I was traipsing after my actor husband
• Los Angeles - twice, and now probably a third time
• Elk Grove, CA -the fastest growing city in the US in 2005, the year I moved here. It is a veritable ocean of beige and brown and tan and ecru and chocolate and sand houses. Scary what can happen to farm and ranch land when the developers get a hold of it

Four Categories of TV Program I Watch
Why don't I just give your my current DVR slate

• American Idol, Survivor, America's Next Top Model, Work Out, Final Cut - I do not watch any programs where they are handing out roses or losing weight or raising houses for needy families
• The Chris Matthews Show - the weekly half hour featuring four journalists, not the daily scream fest
• Grey's Anatomy - and I read the blog, which is unbelievably wonderful because each week the writer explains the ways and whys of their script,
• Boston Legal - hysterical, not to mention funny, provocative, political, and did I say makes me LOL?

Four Places I've Been To On Holiday
...or vacation as we in American like to call it.

• Majorca - playground of the common European
• Paris - je t'aime
• Sag Harbor - my cousin takes a house there every summer and when I go, I get to pretend I am in the playground of the uncommon New Yorker
  
• Texas - I once honkytonked my way from San Antonio to the Texas border, and then on to LA. George Strait on the radio. Long neck in hand. Wanted to bring back a cowboy. Failed.

Four Favorite Dishes
These are what I like to call my Dying Convict's Meal. In other words, they're what I'd order the night before my execution.

• Whole lobster, maybe a 4 pounder, with drawn butter
• Garlic fries or baked potato with sour cream
• Heirloom Tomatoes mixed with chopped sweet onion, Balsamic vinegar and crusty fresh bread
• Profiteroles - some with ice cream, some with whipped cream

Four Sites I Visit Daily
I have an ever-growing list on Google Reader, so whoever has updated gets a visit from me.

Four Places I'd Rather Be
I'm working on mindfulness, so I am right where I want to be at this moment. Even if I'm really not so much.

Rather than tag four more people, I'll leave this up to you. If you want to do this Meme, let me know and I'll tag you in an update.

Life Goals--or, um, Did I Forget Something?

Cce over at Mad Marriage tagged me the other day for a meme about goals not realized. At first, I felt nothing but flattered, in a Sally Field-ish sort of way. Then, I felt nothing. That is, I utterly blanked at the word goals – never mind the “not realized” part.

What are these things called goals? Have I ever had one? Would I know it if I had?

Okay, here’s one. I wanted to be named one of Esquire magazine’s “Thirty Under Thirty.” Do they still do that feature? I gave up watching after I’d passed thirtyfive and Esquire had still not called.

I was beginning to feel a bit frantic about not having any Goals Not Realized to write about, so I did what I do whenever I feel confused: I researched the topic. If I don’t know what a goal is, surely the rest of the world will. Obviously. They’d have to. As they, unlike I, are functioning human beings. So I went trolling for Goals.

I went back to Cce's post and saw that she, too, has a problem with goals. “Aside from that MFA, I can’t think of anything I’ve set out to accomplish. Truly, I’ve got nothing. Perhaps I just have the ability to back off my goals, adapting to failure in a way that conveniently disguises my initial intentions.”

Okay, that's a kindred soul, but it's not particularly helpful for my purposes. So I checked the post of Ron, who originally tagged Cce, and saw that he has flipped the meaning of the meme. “Five Goals I’ve Never Taken Seriously” is how he titles it and the first three are telling: he’s never taken staying fashionable serious, or growing up, or getting the final goal in the World Cup. The meme for him, then, is Five Goals The World Thinks Are Important But I Am Better Than That. I followed his lead to the five bloggers he had tagged, but of them, only Cce had responded. Were the others too busy? Too befuddled by the meme’s actually meaning? Too befogged by the weightiness of calculating their goals?

Moving right along to the other four who Cce had tagged, this is what I found: SlouchingMom cited the meme as “What Five Goals Have You Largely Ignored?” All of them, she says. She realized relatively early that goal-making was, for her, somewhat crazy-making. “Goals are not good for me. I’m trying to live one day at a time, enjoy the here-and-now, something historically almost impossible for me. And that may be the one goal that I am proud to say I have more or less achieved, though I backslide from time to time.” And that was it for Cce’s other four.

So I googled: goals meme. And there I saw the way in which the meme had morphed.

One Alex Shalman seems to be the originator of the meme, and this is what his prompt for it is: “list and write about the top 5 to 10 goals that you gotta’ get so that you can truly say you have achieved your wildest dreams in life. These have to be your best, most exclusive, and over-the-top goals that you can pick off your goals list.”

Wow! That’s one fine game of telephone: from goals you gotta get to goals you’ve largely ignored. I wonder where the first bend in the road (to mix my metaphors) came. Who was the initial person to just slightly altered the meme to fit their own state of mind.

The conventional wisdom, when I was in the PhD program, was that the choice of your dissertation topic had more to say about your psyche than your critical interests. I’m reminded of that in this foray into the Goals Meme: how one answered depended on how one read the meme, and that had everything to do with where you are, as they used to say, “at.”

I'm slightly confused, so I go back to Alex Shalman's site, to see who he is and if therein is a clue to the morphing of the meme.

Ahhhhhh, yes. Alex Shalman sub-titles his site, "Practical Personal Development." He is about self-fulfillment and promises to make and keep as only a twentytwo year old can be. For those of us a tad older--well, we kinda recognize the way that wildest dreams goals reach up to bite you in the butt.

Still, I don't want to be a bad sport, so here are my five tags to do the meme next, , whatever it is, and however they want to phrase it: Toady Joe, Queen of Dysfunction, Leahpeah, Blurbomat, and HelenJane.