This is what i think of your little game of Tag...

For all of you who must commute more than half a block to school/work and thence might not be enjoying this glorious frostiness as much as I am, I give you this:

So I’ve been tagged. First the sheep, and now this. One day, I’m minding my own business with my irrelevant little blog of idle musings, and then …BAM! Suddenly I’m in a dark room, tied to a chair, staring into the bright light , forced to divulge my deepest, darkest secrets. My Mother was right – the internet is dangerous.
Oh, the merciless law of tag. Ancient as grade school, and just as inescapable. If only there were some way to simply…ignore it. But once, I deleted this forward I was supposed to send to 10 friends, and… ok, nothing at all happened and it sure as hell wasn’t just once, but the point is…I’ve been tagged. The die is cast. My fate is sealed.The problem is ….I’m having trouble coming up with 5 things that no one knows about me. All the “shocking” truths that come to mind are old news to the two- and- a- half known readers of this blog. My life is an open book. I have no secrets.

Well ...there MIGHT be ONE thing …maybe two. Ok, there’s at least a dozen. But I’m not dumb enough to plaster any of those all over the internet. That’d be ridiculously stupid. There are some secrets you carry with you to the grave. Like that time in Istanbul, in ’79, with the weather balloon, the midgets, the unicycle and the bag of nitroglycerin… (shudder).

Let’s see…Surprising (but safe) things that nobody knows about me….hmm. Everybody knows I was detained by the police in China for “illegal religious activities” (that in itself sounds pretty dodgy, doesn’t it?) But my Kung-Fu was stronger than theirs, and I escaped. Everybody knows I met Mother Teresa in Calcutta in 1996. (I’m not sure if everyone knows she took me for nearly 500 rupees in the poker game at the leper colony, and…aw, but that’s not a very interesting story. Never mind. )

So, The game is “List 5 things people don’t know about you”, and Deuces are wild.
Ok, here goes…


1. I have a crush on someone.

2. I have a crush on someone else. (hee hee! TWO crushes at the same time! On different people! Now I’m nearly as scandalous and revealing as Ali and Jen! Take that!)

3. I…really AM a sheep. Baaaa.

4. Stop that! Get your own blog, you wooly bastards!

5. I…now that’s completely blown my concentration. I can’t work in these conditions!


All right, I admit I wasn’t taking that entirely seriously. I will try it again. Five things people hopefully don’t know about me, as follows:


1. While I may appear a perfectly healthy person with many, many months left to live… I have you all fooled. It’s true. I…have an irregular heart beat.

2. In Kindergarten we were practicing our numbers and I asked the girl next to me the right way to do “4”. It didn’t look right to me, so I scribbled it out. Discovering my scribble, the teacher became enraged, grabbed me by the ear and snarled “Did YOU do that?” I was scared and, like the first man and all subsequent ones, I blamed the girl, and she got in trouble instead. The guilt still keeps me up at night.

3. I am a 600 year old immortal. (Well, not really. But I used that one once on this blonde girl Dave was hitting on, and said it with such a straight face that she believed me. For about 20 seconds.)

4. I have absolutely no originality and like to follow the crowd wherever it goes. My fleece is also exceptionally white and fluffy.

5. ... Have I mentioned my “secret” fondness for MUTTON KABABS!?



Sigh.


TAG RESPONSE - TAKE 3: Real, at least PARTIALLY unknown facts, accompanied by a solemn promise to stop goofing around (and NO SHEEP!)






(echoing silence)

The MOST distressing thing about that unprovoked sheep attack was simply that four words of completely out of context, unrelated nonsense got more response than any of my artfully crafted, painstakingly imagined serious posts. Sigh.

I was afraid this might happen. It was only a matter of time. We were warned...but we didn't listen. And now....the Sheep have returned. For those of you who do not learn from history, the Sheep enjoyed a brief period of control over this space in its weak and fragile early days, before they were banished with extreme predjudice to their current, apparently innocent, grass-eating exile. But no, like Ghengis Khan staring out over those gently waving Mongolian grasslands, they were only biding their time... Mmmmm....grasslands.... AHem! No More of that!

The point is, we here at Jeremythepolite are very aware of this new Sheep incursion, and assure all two of our loyal readers that it will sheared off at the source. Steps have been taken to see that this shocking incident never happens again. Of course i can't say WHAT steps. STEPS HAVE BEEN TAKEN. Up to but not necessarily including an invasion of New Zealand. Or Fort Saskatchewan. These wooly interlopers cannot be allowed to graze at will - not on MY blog.

Baaa.

Baa!

I am a sheep

Did i mention that i really like winter? You might want to check back in on that statement in 4 months or so...but for now, i'm really enjoying winter. Awaking today to a steady silent patter of flakes outside the window, (And to friends bearing feline)i was happy and content. I was musing about this with a friend, wondering why is it that something as cold and uncomfortable as winter is comforting to me...perhaps it is, as suggested, that anyone growing up in Edmonton has more snow-and-ice associated childhood memories than any other kind. Maybe i'm drawn to the simplicity of the winter asthetic - black and white, high-contrast, dark branches against white snow, shapes and textures standing out, drawing attention to themselves in the simplified winter palette of black, white, grey and brown. There's a crispness to the cold air, a freshness, something that makes one feel awake and alive just by steppng out into it. And a warm house with tea and hot chocolate feels that much better when you've spent your day huddled against biting wind.

I have a houseguest. A small furry one. Not as small or furry as my permanent houseguests, but nearly as cute. Coincidentally, my new houseguest would really like to eat my those permanent, smaller, furrier houseguests. But, i'm sorry to say, Lina, that just isn't going to happen. Bigger animals than you have tried to eat my hamsters, and have the lingering phobias to prove it. The best thing, however, about my new houseguest, is that she matches. Yep, I am officially a girl. I have a cat that matches my apartment. A cream cat with dark ears and tail ( and blue eyes!) somehow is the perfect compliment for my beige and brown ( and, i must confess, vaguely pink) apartment. Hey, it was Tammy's old place, OK? Cut me some slack. And the cat was an accident.

I wish I could....

‘ The aim of the storyteller is to transmit what has been received, to return what has been entrusted, to “reacquaint himself with the distant and haunting figures that molded him”

Elie Wiesel, again.

One never leaves the past behind. Because the past is in the present. And without the past, the present would be empty.So it is a matter of balance. Which is stronger-the past or the present? If the past overtakes the present, then the present itself becomes part of the past,and it becomes imposible to live.One carries the past. One can be carried by the past for only so long.

Elie Wiesel