catelin: (glasses)
( Feb. 24th, 2007 01:05 pm)
He apologizes for smelling like gasoline. She just smiles and says, "Don't worry about it."

What she doesn't say is that she loves the smell of gasoline on a man's hands because it reminds her of being six years old and hiding behind her dad's legs every other week at the garage while he and his friends revved engines, talked shop, and smoked Kools. It reminds her of the racetrack, holding her brother's hand and stuffing her mouth full of Bit-o-Honeys while her dad snapped photos of dragsters and greasers for the magazines. It reminds her of the one boy she probably ever loved enough to have stayed married to forever if he hadn't died on the road before they had a chance to find out. What she doesn't tell him is that the smell of gasoline on his hands reminds her of every single best kind of love she's ever had or hoped for in her life.
catelin: (Default)
( Feb. 17th, 2007 05:56 pm)
It's blowing here today like crazy, dropping the temperature and taking away any chance that the sun is finally going to warm us up a bit. I was going to throw on some grubby clothes and run down to the Auto Zone (my latest hangout since inheriting a beater car) for transmission fluid, but I got cold feet. Literally.

So instead I stayed in and watched bad movies all day. A friendship of mine ended today. I'm going to mark the date and leave it at that. It's disappointing to stick with a friend and defend them even against the most heinous sort of shit from other people when the going gets rough, only to discover that they're only too glad to heap it on you when you can't see them doing it. Live and learn, as always.

Only a couple of more weeks before I invade Kansas City!!!!!!!!! Yay!!!! I plan to torture the Donna and her new kitties until her man decides they've all had enough and insists it's time for me to go home!! Hee! : )
catelin: (Default)
( Jan. 8th, 2002 11:44 am)
I got the nicest compliment today!

Co-worker: I always hear you laughing.

Me: So what? Are you saying I'm loud??

Co-worker: Not at all. I dig the laugh. It's the kind that makes others do the same.
catelin: (Default)
( Dec. 31st, 2001 10:43 am)
I think that I shall look back on 2001 as one of those significant years. I've had them before. My first was in 1973. That was the year my mother decided that my long blonde hair was too much to handle and she had it all cut off into this short pixieish monstrosity. That was the end of the "such a pretty little girl" phase and the beginning of the "surly tomboy outsider" phase that lasted until my last couple of years of high school. I remember being surprised when my hair grew back in a honey-red shade instead of the variegated blonde I'd had before.

1977 was also a big year, as years go. It was the first year I went to Mexico...the first time I went for weeks without speaking English. The first time I had an inkling as to how big the world really was and how many possible futures I had in it. It was the beginning of my love affair with a culture that is as much a part of me now as my own.

1983 was the year I had my heart broken. It wasn't a spectacular story, stereotypical, really; but the pain of it had me catching my breath even years later.

1986 was the year I broke off the only really serious engagement I ever had. I was going to marry a tennis player from Mexico City whose family owned shoe factories. I had long Clairol blonde hair again and everyone would say in Spanish "such a pretty little girl" until I decided that wasn't what I wanted to be...not even en español.

In 1994, I made very big differences to a few people. I won an asylum case for a couple from Liberia, both of whom had been viciously tortured. I won the release of a classical violinist from Armenia, so she could be with her husband. They had a baby girl that is named Katya, after me. : ) I got a young crack head from Romania off the streets and into rehab after several tries. He's married with kids, working, happy. I'm very proud of this year.

In 1995, I had my first child and all of the changes that come with that. I was scared to death, alone, lonely. I decided to get back to Texas as quickly as I only took me a year or so. In 1997, I had my second child. This was the year I took the Texas bar exam, 8 months pregnant, working three jobs, and living in a trailer with people I despised. It seemed I'd sunk to a new low. I worked my ass off and got out of that space in my life as quickly as I could.

1998 was the year my worst fear, that everyone I loved would leave me, came true. I lost my best friend, my brother ripped me off and disappeared from my life, my parents didn't speak to me. Everything that I was most afraid of happened, and I survived. I realized who my friends were and that I wasn't nearly as alone as I perceived myself to be. I realized that I was strong enough and stubborn enough to find happiness in even the bleakest landscapes. I did the whole Scarlett O'Hara "as gawd as my witness" thing, except instead of never going hungry, I was never going to be ungrateful again...for anything. Sort of the same concept, I suppose.

Of course, every year of my life is full of memories and milestones...these are just the ones that stand out this morning. But this year in particular has been filled with a lifetime of memories. This is the year I saw my very best friend close old and ugly chapters to open new and beautiful ones, in a new place, in a new home. This is the year that I found my voice. This is the year that I learned to ask for things I really wanted, even though I was afraid of being told "no." This is the year that I discovered the value of friendship, and that there is no shame in having an open heart without regard to whether others do or not. This is the year I learned to cut ties and listen to my own better judgment. This is the year I learned the importance of friends' advice. This is the year that the world changed in ways so profound I am only still beginning to grasp what it is we've lost and what we shall need to find again. Most of all, though, when I look back at this year, I will remember one thing above everything. I will remember this as the year that love found me over and over--in the letters and calls from friends, in the shared stories and lunches, in the jokes and the photos and the wonderful exchanges that reminded me of everyone's value, including my own. This will be the year that Big Love became more that just another wacky theory of mine, and just its existence is enough...but it came with so much more than mere proof of itself that I'm left with no words, just a big silly grin on my face. This has been one of the hardest, happiest years I've had so far. Hope we can all say the same. Happy New Year.
I play the 34 Questions game with Ken and Anois. : )

Right next door to my house...the beginnings of my hill country writers/artists colony.

The name of someone I loved carved on the National Law Enforcement Officer's Memorial in D.C.


The one constant that does me in: a sharp mind.

John Lee Hooker "The Best of Friends"

In the center of my happiest moments.

Between a rock and a hard place.

I'll get back to you on this next month.

Either one without the other would be awful.

Around 5:30-6:30 in the morning...on weekends I sleep in until 8am or so.

Six Feet Under (if they would ever start a new season)

My electric mixer. I still love to lick the beaters.

The way my grandmother smelled, playing in the sand hills with my brother, learning to swim...there's tons of favorites...I was a lucky kid.

Almost everything.

Cruelty and stupidity in any combination.


Threadgill's...the original Austin, Texas.

I have no idea....all the ones that I would like are long gone.

I believe that something in us continues somewhere else after our bodies quit working, but I don't think I will be the "me" that I am now ever again.

The Wizard of Oz, Where The Wild Things Are, Max The Minnow, Molly Pitcher


22. WHAT'S YOUR LEAST FAVORITE SEASON?'s too cold to do summer things and too hot to do winter things. The only thing I love about spring is the flowers.

The magic instant sterilization ray.

A small flower on my right hip and two goldfish on my back.

Yes. I call that living. I can't really juggle...but I used to be able to ride a unicycle. : )

Pennies From Heaven



Anything as long as no one else is listening

I don't know!! I suppose...human.
catelin: (Default)
( Nov. 18th, 2001 10:09 am)
Thing I'm most proud of...coming up on two months of not smoking, working out, and feeling better than I have in years.

Creepiest movie I've seen...The Nanny with Bette Davis...gawd but that woman was skkkkeeeery!!!

Best advice I gave twice in one week...."No man is worth carving out pieces of your flesh to feed yourself from."

Most fun I had...making chocolate chip cookies with my kids. We made a huge mess, but boy was it ever fun!!

The thing that irritates me...that the fucking people working on my fence seem to have something against showing up for more than three hours a week.

Finally giving in...a photographer friend has been wanting me to shoot with him for ages...I told him I would.

Good deed...I fought with my boss over getting a guy into rehab instead of sending him to prison...and (I'm sooooooo much more stubborn than him) I won this round! The rest is up to the guy.

Lost things...probably put the final nail in the coffin of a friendship by being honest with his ex-girlfriend (also a very good friend) about his current living arrangements (living with some titty dancer chippie that he left her for). He's moved out, had three weeks to tell her the truth, and I'm not going to lie to her.

New projects...getting all of my holiday gift ideas in order. : ) Also working on several new short stories and doing some painting.

Reading...Speak to The Earth by Vivienne de Watteville and a biography of Rosa Luxemburg.

Best New Journal...I'm particular to Artemis and Athena, generally, but this is one of the best online journals I've seen in a while.

New addition to the old hard-scrabble Tom that's missing an ear...he's been hanging around and getting fed. I figure it'll be at least a couple of months before he'll even let me get close enough to touch him.

Enjoying...the leaves changing, the river's turning from deep green to stone grey, my kids getting excited about the holidays, conversations on the wire, the smells of cooking in my kitchen, life's little surprises.
catelin: (Default)
( Nov. 1st, 2001 09:12 pm)

The Spirit of the Dead Keeps Watch

Paul Gauguin

I live surrounded by ghosts, by the spirits of my past. People I've loved, decisions I made, experiences I've lived. November always seems a good time for remembering all sorts of things.

Every time I make a cup of coffee in the morning, I remember my grandfather who would offer me coffee when I was a kid. It was a joke between us. "You want some cossee?" he'd ask. He called it cossee because he said that's what I called it when I was just learning how to talk. I'd laugh and make a face, telling him "It's not cossee, Pampaw, it's coffee!" He'd laugh and say "Oh, really?" Then he'd pretend that he was shaving my face with his electric razor. It was our game. He ate fried eggs with lots of black pepper on them. He wore a felt Stetson hat every day that I ever saw him. He smelled like cigars and the oil field. He was a gauger...the guy who checked out the pump jacks and the reserve tanks. He'd strap me and my brother into the front passenger seatbelt together and we'd roar down the gravel roads with him, out in the middle of West Texas nowhere. I loved him so much...still do. The last thing he ever did as himself before the stroke trapped him inside his own body was to take us to get ice cream. He went into the hospital that day and the man I knew never came back. He was in there, but he couldn't get out anymore. I didn't eat ice cream for years after that. I don't have much of a taste for it still. The last time I saw him before he died, I stroked his cheek like I was shaving him and asked, "Hey, you want some cossee?"

My grandmother smirks right back at me in the mirror when I catch myself at a certain angle. I miss her most of all and talk about her almost every day. We were connected, she and I...we always understood each other. Always. Her name was Billie and she was tall and dark headed. We have the same face in a lot of ways. We have the same temper and the same soft hearts...a combination that sometimes gets me in trouble. She was a beauty operator and loved to dance. She used to dance with me in the kitchen at night. She met my grandfather at a house party back in the thirties. I didn't find out until after she died that she'd run away to Mexico and gotten married when she was sixteen. Her dad went and got her. No one ever talked about it. My grandfather paid for her divorce some years later. She loved to watch birds and fish. She was the first one to put my hair in braids. "You can see the Dutch in that little face," she'd say. She rolled her own cigarettes and wore Max Factor lipstick. She died in the same town that I was born was the closest one to the mountains where she and my grandfather had been camping. She was terrified of lingering in a nursing home or a hospital. This way she just went camping and never came home. After she died, my grandfather told me, "You know, your Mema's sister Gladys was a pretty woman. But Billie...Billie was just beautiful to stop your heart." My grandfather has since remarried and he's almost 90 years old...still going strong. He doesn't talk about her much...because it still makes him cry. I wear her wedding bands on my right hand and my greatest regret in this life is that she didn't live to see my boys...because I know she would've been loopy for them.
When I was fifteen, I had a crush on a boy. His name was Antonio. We used to walk together in the Alameda on Sundays, making endless circles around the fountains and through the trees. He would take me to the library that stood at the center of all this on Thursdays and let me check out books with his library card. I would read the poems of Neruda, Octavio Paz, and Salvador Novo. I would read the stories of Carlos Fuentes and imagine Aztecs on motorcycles around every corner as I walked to school. This boy told me that he loved me and I told him that I loved him too, mostly because I was fifteen and he looked like he needed to hear it; and it didn't sound half be in love. Twenty-two years later, yesterday to be exact, we spoke on the phone. He'd been looking for me, he said. I asked if he was getting divorced, because I told him that I'd imagined when people started snuffling around for faces from the past it's because they're afraid of their futures. He said no. He's married, very happy, and has three of them grown...two almost. He was not shocked that I had never married. He told me that I was always a "free spirit" and that was what drew him to me from the start. I told him that I was even more eccentric now, well on my way to becoming like the crazy American ladies that pack up everything and move to San Miguel de Allende. We exchanged pictures. He looked very much the same. Same eyes. Same hair (minus the super 70s style!). A nineteen-year-old boy behind a 42-year-old man's mask. My grandmother always said it was like that. She said you never forget your young face or the young faces of your friends. He wrote me back and said that I had not changed much. Still with the braids, I see. He reminded me of a day in the mountains and that he'd made a wreath for my hair of tiny yellow flowers. You still remember that? I was amazed at the details he still held in his head. My images of us together are blurred with only a few pieces still clear...drinking cokes from bottles with straws inside them, the smell of elote, looking out over the city one night, the shopkeepers sweeping the streets with brooms and water every morning. We shall have lunch soon, and we will sit together and remember our young smiles.

The Bridge

Between now and now,
between I am and you are,
the word bridge.

Entering it
you enter yourself:
the world connects
and closes like a ring.

From one bank to another,
there is always
a body stretched:
a rainbow.

I'll sleep beneath its arches.

Octavio Paz
I cleaned my house and my garage. I set up my work/sewing bench so I can do those many crafty/artsy things I do. I wrote letters. I played outside with my kids in weather that was just too good to be real. I half-waited for a phone call in vain..."because a lady should never really wait for any phone call. Why, that's just silly." That's quoting my grandmother. I received another phone call that I wasn't expecting. I read my Tarot cards...still pondering that. I missed the annual American Indian gathering that they have every year at the lake...first time in a couple of years. I got a wonderful postcard out of the blue! Thank you! I got mad and stayed mad...but not for long. I worked on a story called "Cloche Hats"---remains to be seen what will become of it. I had a nice e-mail from a publisher interested in my work. I pulled some things from my old life down out of my attic. I got hit on by one of the best looking bikers I've seen in ages standing in line at the store....Helllooooo Sam Elliot! I rode naked on the back of a Harley, years ago, outside of Bastrop before there was really anything out there. My hair whipped behind me and I laughed into the wind from the sheer stupid joy of it. I hung curtains the color of butter in my kitchen. I cut more rosemary and gave the boys a bath. I'm thinking of making dream pillows again. Mostly, I'm just feeling fat and all is right with the least in my little golden corner of it. So I'm gonna put my feet up and have a nice cup of tea, a bath, and clean sheets to fall into on my bed.
I woke up this morning believing, in that space before you really wake up, that I was back in my little bungalow on Wilcox with my legs wrapped around my long-haired boy genius, both of us still sticky sweet with Crème de Cassis. Nothing like a dog's nose in your face and kids jumping on your bed to remind you of exactly where you are. After breakfast there were some words exchanged with their father...not an even exchange really; just me sitting there while he bitched. I'm not an argumentative person. I argue for a living and don't care to do it much in my personal life. On the other hand, I am cursed with one hell of an Irish temper. I just got up after a few minutes and quietly hurled his favorite chair out the door...all the way to the street. Who knew I was so strong? Completely childish and totally gratifying...a gesture more laden with meaning than 1000 sour words. Perhaps I should take up the Caber Toss. I'm cleaning house today. And I mean it.

Oh, and I pilfered this from one of the last real southern gentlemen around:
current mood: Where's the Ajax?
current music: "Jesus Christ Pose" Soundgarden
current taste: giant goldfish crackers with spinach dip
current hair condition: unruly
current dress: bare feet, jeans, Low Pop Suicide t-shirt that's on its last leg
current grievance: people who insist that half-ass is good enough
current annoyance: the clutter underneath my feet
current smell: gardenia candles and rosemary hung to dry
current stupid musing: that I could hop a plane bound for Italy like NOW
current longing: the usual
current game: I'm teaching Max how to play Chess
current thing I ought to be doing: laundry and editing stuff...Max and I are making Shrinky Dinks instead
current windows open: my kitchen and living room ones...ok, really Windows, IE, LJ, Morpheus
current desktop picture: Georgia O'Keefe "Poppies"
current favorite artist: Siqueiros (art)/Cafe Quijano (music)
current favorite group: the deer family that hangs out in my yard
current book: Turn of the Screw, Moll Flanders, 2002 Herbal Almanac, and Three Lives
current cds in stereo: only one...I'm so low-fi...Miles Davis "Someday My Prince Will Come"
current dvd in player: No DVD...I'm hopeless....Video: "Inspector Gadget" Helloooo!! It's for the kids!!
current color of toenails: fire engine red
current earrings: silver goddess earrings
current refreshment: water
current worry: Court of Appeals arguments on Halloween in front on an audience
current favorite book: "Winesberg, Ohio" by Sherwood Anderson
current malicious intent: brutalize any armchair that crosses me
current misguided opinion: that I really know what I'm doing
current crush: I'm a recovering crushaholic
current favorite (semi) celebrity: Dennis Hopper...always my favorite
current time wasting wish: if only I could be Empress of the Universe for a while!
current hate: got no time for hate...too much housework to be done
catelin: (Default)
( Sep. 19th, 2001 04:52 pm)
Someone once said my eyes were the color of moss ears turn red when I get me some wit and I'm grandmother's name was Billie, and yeah, she was that favorite flowers are another life, I would have liked to have been a milliner...once in a blue moon, I'll get a glimpse of myself in the mirror right before bed and think what a shame it is that I'm the only one looking...I bought mugwort and yarrow root on my lunch hour...I appreciate the subtle, but have no patience for the cryptic...I make some of the best cinnamon rolls you'll ever taste...I half-believe that wanting is better than having...there's a painting of me floating around somewhere by some Russian painter who was living in Mexico about 15 years ago...and I wear old velvet flowers in my hair when I'm really happy.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who's overcome with this horrible feeling that nothing I write means anything anymore. I catch myself thinking, "Ok, who do I want to propose to today?" and then I think, "Why bother?" Not that I've really been thinking that, but it illustrates my point. My day-to-day life seems so ridiculous now. It seems so completely boring and small compared to the headlined news that I finally shut off but still the traces linger in my head. The goofy anecdotes, the stories, the poetry...I think, does anyone even give a rat's ass anymore? Why is it that I feel that everything I write here should now be something profound? Something so much more full of meaning than anything I wrote before? I suppose it is natural to search for words to fix things. After all, that is my business. People get hurt. I write words that fix things. I speak to jurors and judges and tell them, "This needs fixing." I wait for verdicts with white knuckles, nervous...but still always certain that things will be fixed. I've always been certain of that. Proud that I help people. Proud that I stand up for the weak and voiceless. That I roar with their stories, feeling like Clarence Darrow or Atticus Finch in a pair of heels. Knowing that my friends on other side of the room were just as committed to doing right by the Constitution...even when their clients were despicable, we all had a sense that we were doing just what we should be doing. That we were fighting the good fight...even from different perspectives. All of what's happened has made me maudlin. It's made me feel stupid and small, and worse...trivial. It's made me want to push my breath into the hollow of your neck, to lie down with you and forget anything else but flesh, to look at your eyes and know that there's still someone who really sees that I'm still here. I want to tell you about my day, and laugh about almost being thrown in jail for contempt of court by the crazy know, the one we always giggle about. To have you brush my hair back from my face and tell me yet again that my Irish temper will be the end of me. I want to tell you about the boys. How they found a clear green marble yesterday in the dirt and told me that they were sure it must be a treasure that someone had buried a long time ago. How Max told me that he was sure the treasure had some sort of magical powers, but he just had to figure out the right words to make it work. I just want to find the right words. But how do you find magical words when you feel that your voice has left you?
First day of soccer for Max. He loves it and I love watching the abandon with which he throws himself into running after this little ball. Pure joy. We're lucky. We live in a town (if you can even call it that) where everyone still remembers that the point of the game is to have fun. No one minds that I bring my dog to play with the kids, or that I show up a little late in baggy cut-off overalls and my favorite pair of old flowery Docs, or that Jacob and I comb the outskirts of the fields for herbs. I had a surprise call from Verian today at work, which put me in the best mood for the rest of the day. We talked about kids, work, writing...and of course, we dished a little...gotta have a bit of gossip. ; ) It was a golden of those days when everything just seems right with the world.
catelin: (Default)
( Aug. 20th, 2001 05:15 pm)
Got this from my favorite doctor. Let's see if it cures what ails me. ; )

1. I tell people I weigh 112 pounds, when I really weigh 117.

2. When I was in 7th grade, I got teased for looking like a boy.

3. My daddy still calls me "Sissy."

4. Old Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young songs make me cry--for a lot of different reasons.

5. My relationship with my boys' father makes me feel like I am trapped in amber most days, but I'm really good at ignoring it.

6. I am the worst housekeeper in the world.

7. I'm too fickle for my own good.

8. I don't visit my grandmother, who my uncle put into a nursing home up in Dallas when I wanted her to be closer to where I live, nearly as much as I should.

9. I'm a much more fearful person than I ordinarily let on.

10. I really don't think that I'll ever meet a man who can keep up with me.

11. BONUS CONFESSION: I'm a sucker for smart, charming, unavailable men.
catelin: (Default)
( Jul. 12th, 2001 10:24 pm)
If I were a stone, I would be a...turquoise
If I were a tree, I would be a...magnolia
If I were a bird, I would be a...hummingbird
If I were an insect, I would be a...beetle
If I were a machine, I would be an...Elna
If I were a tool, I would be a...Craftsman
If I were a fruit, I would be a...peach
If I were a flower, I would be a...lilac
If I were a kind of weather, I would be...rain
If I were a mythical creature, I would be a...hamadryad
If I were a musical instrument, I would be a...mandolin
If I were a kind of profession, I would be a...finish carpenter
If I were an animal, I would be a...bear
If I were anything in the world, I would be...myself
If I were a color, I would be...violet
If I were a fragrance, I would blossom
If I were an emotion, I would be...happiness
If I were a state or feeling, I would be...patience
If I were a vegetable, I would be...okra
If I were a sound, I would be...a whisper
If I were an Element, I would be...Water
catelin: (Default)
( Jun. 15th, 2001 04:27 pm)
Compliments of inflammatio. Not necessarily in any order.

7 things you are afraid of:
1. drowning
2. cancer
3. my kids being hurt/killed
4. cruise ships
5. snakes
6. drunk drivers
7. mediocrity

7 things (or people) that make you laugh:
1. Three Stooges
2. Peter Sellars
3. Life in general
4. Spinal Tap
5. poseurs
6. Andy Griffith Show
7. Bill Hicks

7 things that make you cry:
1. heartache
2. rage
3. corny movies, t.v. shows, name it
4. seeing extraordinary courage or honor in other people
5. feeling powerless
6. goodbyes
7. missing people

7 things you love:
1. my boys
2. my extended clan of friends and family
3. rainstorms
4. gardening
5. a good turn of phrase
6. beautiful music
7. chocolate

7 things you don't understand:
1. cruelty
2. zealots of any form or fashion
3. what a fractal really is
4. people who CHOOSE to be morose
5. extreme vanity
6. why people line up outside clubs they never get into
7. why everyone in my family is 6' or over and I'm only 5'3"...ok, 5'2" and a half.

7 things on my desk (or table):
1. Magic 8-ball
2. sumo wrestler lunchbox
3. work files
4. a vase of flowers
5. candles
6. a dinosaur punching puppet
7. a little tiny megaphone

Right now you are:
At work, taking a break from issuing subpoenas for upcoming cases, munching on tortilla chips, talking on the phone...oh, and listening to Carlos Vives..

7 facts about you:
1. I am smarter than I look
2. I have way too many shoes for my own good
3. I am a good mother
4. I've had fewer lovers than most people guess
5. I look really ugly when I cry
6. I have dreams that come true sometimes
7. I'm a sucker for a real gentleman

7 things to do before you die:
1. Raise my boys and make sure they're doing ok
2. Publish a collection of my short stories
3. Find my soul mate---after my kids are raised
4. Travel the world
5. Pass on my grandparents' love to my own grandchildren
6. Read, read, and read some more
7. Putter in the garden some more
Shame on me for enabling Kalemachka's quiz habit...and my own.

1. Name(s): Cate

2. If there are 3 wells (love, beauty, and creativity) and you can drink from one of them, which would you choose? What would it taste like? I'd drink of love and I imagine it would taste much like the smell of my freshly bathed children.

3. Do you wish on stars? Sure. You can never wish too often.

4. Would you kill someone? To protect my children--you bet. In a fucking heartbeat.

5. Virgin or not? Dear, I'm a middle-aged broad with two kids. Need I say more?

6. Who are you jealous of? I don't get jealous.

7. Who would you marry? Any one of the gentlemen to whom I'm constantly proposing in my journal.

8. Do you think that the people on the Gap commercials are cool? Sorry. Anything even remotely associated with the Gap is consummately uncool.

9. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Sure! I've always been a great friend to have.

10. Are you a daredevil? Absolutely not.

11. Would you ever consider running for office? That may be a possibility one of these days.

12. What things are you afraid of most? Outliving my children, having them grow up to be unhappy or unfulfilled.

13. Have you ever told a secret that you swore you wouldn't repeat? Yeah, but I had a good reason for doing it.

14. Do you pray? To borrow a line from my favorite movie: "Pray? No, I communicate."

15. Have you ever met anyone famous? On occasion...and never on purpose.

16. Do you think there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? Figuratively, yes.

17. How do you vent anger? I write, I cry, I move on.

18. Are you trendy? Ha. Hardly.

19. Are you passive or aggressive? A nice mix of the two, I'd say.

20. Do you trust others easily? I'm cautiously optimistic when it comes to trusting people.

21. What was your favorite toy as a child? A set of walkie-talkies.

22. What class in school do you think is totally useless? I always found home economics to be a silly one. Do they even teach that anymore?

23. Do you keep a diary? I've kept journals for years...gotta leave some surprises for everyone after I'm gone.

24. Have you ever intentionally hurt another person? I have been vicious when provoked.

25. Have you ever been in a mosh pit? Back in my salad days, they weren't called mosh pits. That was only years later.

26. What is the new saying that you've been using a lot? By the time I hear any catchy "new phrase" it's usually so over and done with, I don't bother.

27. What is your all time favorite song? North Dakota by Lyle Lovett

28. What was the best Christmas present you received? A long maxi-dress that my grandmother made for me when I was about seven. It was midnight blue with pink flowers and lace...made me feel like the grooviest kid alive.

29. Could you be a vegetarian? I was for several years. I'm not now.

30. What word do you use when you think something is good? I stick with the standard, "that's good."

31. What band has the funniest name? Trotsky's Icepick always made me giggle.

32. Who is your favorite white rapper? Not a one...although I adore the Beastie Boys...who I suppose started much of that white boy nonsense.

33. Would you rather wear uniforms to school? Please. Children have ALWAYS worn uniforms of one sort or another to school. They always will.

34. Have you ever given money to a bum? Not often; but yes.

35. Do you ever wear overalls? Constantly.

37. Do you think you are strong (emotionally)? I know I am. I'm still here in one piece.

38. Do you hate anyone? Nope. I don't have the energy to spare on that.

39. Who is your Best Friend? Raindog is my oldest friend.

40. Do you regret anything? I regret several things; but I don't worry about them now. I learned my lessons and moved on.

41. What are you going to do next? Refill my water glass and clean my desk.

42. What is your favorite quote? "You know, Harold, I believe that much of the world's sorrow comes from people who are 'this' yet allow themselves to be treated as 'that.'"

43. Have you ever considered a religious vocation? Hardly.

44. What's your biggest dream/wish? That my children grow up to be happy, healthy, kindhearted people who do right by themselves and others.

45. What is the one modern thing you could never live without? A water heater.

46. Have you ever done anything illegal? Nothing more dastardly than having a beer when I was underage.

47. Have you ever thought with another's head? In my hands? Between my legs? Resting on my chest? Sure.

48. What would you do if you were walking down the street and saw some models standing on the sidewalk? Nothing out of the ordinary.

49. What do you regret doing or not doing in your life the most? I regret that my grandmother didn't live to see my kids. She'd have been loopy over them.

50. What is the most important lesson you have learned outside of school? To have a profound respect for myself...that's gotten me through a lot of hard things.
catelin: (Default)
( Jun. 1st, 2001 08:10 pm)
Given all of the recent quiz snatching I've been doing lately, I figured it was only fair to add one to the fray. However, in the spirit of brevity, this is a one-word quiz. Think of one word only for each question. Please feel free to add a question. : )

1. Favorite time of day? dusk

2. Type of life you've led? bittersweet

3. A scent that fills you with yearning? gardenias

4. What do you aspire to be most? graceful

5. What is it that comforts you daily? laughter

6. Your worst fear? bereavement

7. What you despise most about people? truculence

8. What you admire most about people? compassion

9. What is your worst personality trait? peevishness

10. What is your best personality trait? loyalty

11. How would most people describe you? content

12. A talent you have that would surprise people involves a(n)...? unicycle
catelin: (Default)
( May. 26th, 2001 10:24 pm)
Compliments of my favorite partner in crime of the literary kind, Verian....

1. If you had the opportunity to stop the assassination/early death of 1 person from history for the benefit of all mankind, who would it be and why?

Can't imagine that one person would make such a difference, and most of my choices range from sheer curiousity as to how it would have all played out to just a feeling that the world would have been a little better for their's a few:
Abraham Lincoln because he had more to accomplish.
Empress Elisabeth of Austria because had she lived history may have been very different.
Martin Luther King, Jr. because things may have really turned out differently with him here.
Steven Biko for the same reason above.
Salvador Allende because that was just so fucking wrong.
JFK, Jr. because it would have been interesting to see if Camelot could have been "reborn" in the 21st century.

2. You take part in a chain photography event and are allowed to take one picture that best illustrates where and how you live before sending the camera on to the next person - what picture would you take and why?
I would take a photo of mysef and my kids on the banks of the Guadalupe River. I can't imagine anything else that would show more clearly who I am and what I'm connected to.

3. The country in which you live is about to be wiped out by a nuclear attack. You have your finger on the button that will launch a counter strike wiping out your attackers, would you press the button?
No way. No use in fighting if you have no chance to win...In that situation, I'd prefer to minimize the number of "losers" overall.

4. Your neighbor tells you that he knows the whereabouts of a convicted and self-confessed pedophile who is on the run from the Police. He has teamed up with other locals and the unruly mob is on it's way, toting petrol cans and torches, to burn the pedophile alive. Do you join the mob, do nothing or phone the Police?
I would definitely call the police.

5. You have died and are moving along a road when you come to a junction, a left turn will lead you to truth, peace and enlightenment, a right turn will lead to you having a bloody fantastic time. Which way are you going to turn?
Peace & enlightenment are my idea of a bloody fantastic time. I'm going left. : )

6. If you where able to erase one thing from your past and still be able to end up where you are now (should you wish to) what would it be and why?
I would erase the years I barely had any relationship with my parents.

7. Tomorrow is the end of the world. You have only twenty four hours left. How would you fill those hours?
Doing everything I could to make my kids happy and peaceful.

8. You accidentally discover that you have the ability to become invisible at will. How would you use this ability?
Hell yeah!!!!!!! I'd be an invisible crime fighter, baby. Oh, yeah...and I'd go around giving Depo Provera shots to junkies...and I'd spend a lot of time scaring the shit out of certain people...and I'd give people decent haircuts while they slept...and I'd slap George W. right across the puss at least once a week just to make myself feel better.

9. You are in a swimming pool and desperately need to pee. Do you swim over to somebody and pee near them so as to 'muddy the waters' as to who it was when the blue dye appears?
Blue dye when you pee??? Never heard of it. That said I'd probably be blissfully relieving myself, leaving a trail of blue dye. Hey, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go.

10. Your teenage child confesses to you that they killed someone in a hit-and-run accident. You have the ability to create the perfect airtight alibi for them. Would you do it?
Nope. That would be hard, but I know that there is a freedom in accepting responsibility for our actions. I wouldn't ever want my child to live with the guilt and shame of not doing the right thing. I think that would be a worse betrayal than not saving his ass with an alibi.


catelin: (Default)


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