Every once in awhile I have a day like this, and it just highlights how little I actually enjoy eating. Cooking, sure, definitely. Smelling, yes. Eating, not so much.
In other not-yet-quite-news, I really like working with smart editors who have smart editing suggestions for my fiction. Sometimes I sell stories and they appear more or less as is, and that's fine, but before I started selling stuff, I expected that editors would have a knack for things I had missed. And then some of them do, and it's good. A relief.
songwind did a "first things" meme last week, so I'm going to poke that in between bits of short story revision:
1. Who was your first prom date?
My first and only prom date was scottjames. We had gone to Student Congress together that day, too. We double-dated with my friend Manda and her then-boyfriend, who would have been her ex-boyfriend already except that she would rather have gone with someone she actively didn't like than go as friends with my friend Mike. She had a thing about having a "real date" for Prom, which Scott and I did not consider each other at the time.
2. Who was your first roommate?
Kathy Jude, the summer I was in Toledo. She wandered off with one of the grad students and was married to him last I heard. She had not informed her mother of this entanglement, however, so I got to deal with the phone calls early on Saturday mornings. Other than that, she was the ideal roomie: absent.
3. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time?
By many people's standards, there hasn't been a first time I've been drunk yet. But as drunk as I've ever been? Wine.
4. What was your first job?
Temp. Secretarial. My folks wanted school to be my focus in high school, so I didn't get a job until the summer after I graduated.
One of the places I temped, they decided my name was Kathy, despite my protests. They acted extremely skeptical whenever I told them it wasn't. I worked there for two weeks, and when Mike and greykev came to get me for lunch, they told them there was no one named Marissa working there. They said, "She's a temp. She's been working for you for two weeks now. She does [brief description of my responsibilities]." They looked at each other: "Do you suppose he means Kathy?"
5. What was your first car?
My mom's white Pontiac Grand Am for the summer. They told me I could take the car to college or use the money from it for a computer. Uh, duh.
6. When did you go to your first funeral?
I think it must have been Uncle Elza when I was in junior high. I stayed home from Great-Grandpa's funeral because I was 3 and had chicken pox, and from Uncle Bruce's because there were enough of us cousins to be a nuisance when I was 5, and we lived too far away to make it to Uncle Lloyd's when I was 11.
7. How old were you when you first moved away from your hometown?
11, but we moved back.
8. Who was your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Peccoraro, and she was a thoroughly unpleasant woman. (Now, of course, she will find this and e-mail me. Well, Patty, you were.) She resented that I was a year ahead in math, so she'd make me go to the end of the help line if anyone else needed help on their math. Also she didn't want to admit that she didn't know how to spell "Impressionistic," so she made me try to find it in the first-grade baby dictionary, and it wasn't there in the first place, and I had spelled it "Empressionistic," so I wasn't going to get far looking in the e's even if it had been.
9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane?
I have no idea. I may not have been pre-verbal, but I almost certainly was.
10. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with?
I never snuck out of the house. Kari showed me how, but I never used the knowledge.
11. Who was your first Best Friend and are you still friends?
When I was very small -- preschool -- my best friends were Gina and Jason. I still know where and how Gina is because our parents know each other. Jason and I never went to school together, and we drifted as we got into grade school.
My best friend in kindergarten was Jim Buchanan, and we're still friends. We went through a rough patch after I moved to Kansas, but it couldn't last; he's Jim and I'm me.
12. Where was your first sleepover?
Almost certainly at Gina's.
13. Who is the first person you call when you have a problem?
I know some of you are new around here, so here is the first rule of Mrissing: total orderings are really not the thing. You notice that the "first best friend" comment had a multi-part answer? That's thoroughly typical.
Depends what the problem is. "Call" implies "on the phone," so that leaves markgritter and timprov out. But I have lots of good people, friends and family. I accrete people. Many of them are reliable.
14. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsman?
My cousin Kari's. She gave us a length of black fabric and said, "At least tea-length, cap-sleeves or sleeveless, don't give the priest a heart attack. Go." Mine is pretty.
15. What is the first thing you do in the morning?
Check the time and try to convince myself to sleep more.
16. What was the first concert you ever went to?
Without my parents? Blues Traveler, I think. In Mankato. But I may be forgetting some other concert experience.
That's rock shows, of course. I'd been to jazz in coffeehouses before that, to G-Band concerts, etc.
17. First tattoo or piercing?
I got my ears pierced when I was 5 or 6, because my mom made the mistake of telling me (when my friends were having theirs done) that in our family, we didn't do it that early. Then we went to the family reunion, and my second-cousins who were three months and two weeks older than me (respectively) had pierced ears. Oops.
I never intend to get a tattoo or any further piercing. I might have let the ear piercings grow shut by now if it hadn't been for porphyrin and elisem.
18. First celebrity crush?
I don't know that this counts, because it's a fictional character rather than a celebrity, but I thought Egon was wonderful when "Ghostbusters" came out. (I still kinda do, actually. Yes, I was into geeks already by 6. When I tell people I was recognizably myself as a small child, they don't always realize how many areas of life this covers.
19. Age of first real kiss?
I think 13, but it might have been 14: it was that summer, and I have a summer birthday. They have taken down the monkeybars in question -- markgritter and missista and I went past there when we were in Omaha last time -- but the park is still there and in use.
The "real" here is meant to mean "romantic," right? I can tell you my age of first really fake kiss, too: my godfather's girlfriend, when I was 21, did the fake kiss-kiss thing where you don't quite hit the person's cheeks, just the air around them. I'm glad they broke up. I gave Dave quite a look over her shoulder over the kiss-kiss thing. Some relatives and friends are perfectly well permitted to actually kiss my cheeks -- Robin, for example, is often encouraged to do so -- but if you're going to do the fake kiss-kiss thing, skip it and shake my hand like a real person.
20. First crush?
Jim Buchanan, kindergarten. I think. That's the first one that made a strong impression on me, at least.
21. First REAL love?
I resent the capitals here. Actually I resent the whole implication. I really did love Jim, in the way that five-year-old best friends can really love each other. Is that a love to base a lifetime on, without it growing up? Of course not. But it was real. I love Jim now as the grown-up version of the kiddo I sat next to on the carpet in Mr. Habrock's kindergarten class.
But the first time I loved somebody and it managed to grow up, it was scottjames, so if that's the line of reality they mean, they can draw it there. I resent the whole thing, though. I don't think reality is defined by reaching a certain age, and defining kids' feelings out of importance is monstrous.
Also deciding that if you really love somebody, you must [x] -- x varies. x varies significantly. Got that? Good. Anybody telling me I didn't really love someone over a weird external factor is going to get the flaming sword of smiting.
Well, crud. I've finished my yogurt, my meme, and most of my revisions, and I am still hungry. I suppose there's something to do about that, and while "ignore it and hope it goes away" is my first impulse, I doubt that it's the healthiest, or even the most conducive to the last of these revisions. Sigh.