1. I like structure, but not arbitrary structure. This has recently led to jokes about what life would be like if bishops had not survived the Cambrian Explosion; I blame rysmiel for that bit. (Mostly if it relates to the Cambrian Explosion, I blame rysmiel or the_overqual. It's useful to know who your go-to people are on these things.)
2. I look forward to the mail. I don't know why, since it mostly has bills in it, and acceptance letters mostly come in my e-mail box these days. But I do.
3. Eight is my favorite number. It's the smallest cube. It's a very good number.
4. The eighth book down on my fiction pile is Carolyn Ives Gilman's Halfway Human, but I never read my fiction pile in order. It's just stacked that way so that the mass market paperbacks are on top and the big thick hardbounds are on the bottom.
5. I hate having stuff on my desk. The book piles are all right, because they're off on the edge of my desk where they officially belong. But in general I put things on my desk in order to drive me crazy, so that I will have motivation to take care of them and get them off my desk again.
6. Managing my library list is an ongoing task. I'm a little annoyed with the library's online software for making sure that I have to herd multiple lists with expiration dates rather than just letting me have one big list that stays attached to my card number. I suddenly wonder if they feel that this is a moral point regarding the Patriot Act or some such piece of filth: that if they don't keep my list attached to my card number, they can't ever be asked to cough it up. Still. Inconvenient.
7. I wear a watch. I don't know why I wear a watch: there are clocks in every non-bathroom room of the house except the music room, and I don't look at my watch in the music room anyway, because I'm playing the piano, not watching the time. Still, there it is. Probably it's easier than categorizing watches as similar to hats and shoes and coats, things to be put on when I'm about to leave. (And when I leave I have the cell phone, which tells time. So I don't know.)
8. I used to think I didn't like pancakes. Now I know I simply don't like pancakes with maple syrup. Which is weird, because I like maple syrup. (Not maple-flavored syrup, though.)
9. I used to think I didn't like shrimp. Now I know I simply don't like the vast majority of shrimp types in the vast majority of preparation types. Much better!
10. I keep trying things I don't like, in case I like them now. Mostly I don't. See, for example, coconut, pineapple, and celery. This has not paid off well practically, on the average, but it has a philosophical appeal I can't really shake.
11. I really like the look of wet ink. Wet wall paint leaves me more or less indifferent. Wet oil paint annoys me, because it takes forever to dry again, and mostly when I was oil painting on things it was on journal covers. Now I mostly don't paint my own journal covers any more (because I'm using a different kind of journal, less conducive to it), and if I did, I'd use acrylics. I like acrylics.
12. My family used to call Grape Nuts "mrissa Chow," because it was my most fundamental food. Just a little milk, no sugar or honey or anything like that. Usually when I have Grape Nuts for lunch or dinner, it means that's all I thought I could eat, but it's still a happy thing, because I got some food in me.
13. I cannot help but look at how clothing will wear with washing. Cannot help it. When I see a skirt with sequins on it, I invariably see how it would look with four or five of the sequins off and a few more hanging by threads. Some people would not notice this. I would. Which is why, you will note if you see me often and watch carefully, I own nothing with beading, sequins, or any kind of embroidery that isn't extremely sturdy.
14. Also it isn't really my kind of thing.
15. I wish it was easier to convey "not my kind of thing" to people without having to worry that they are hearing "evil sick and wrong" instead.
16. I am right-handed. This is not something people think to mention, but it's true.
17. I am also right-footed.
18. I try not to bring it up in February and after, lest some of my loved ones feel the urge to kill me, but I never get sick of snow. Never. In March when everyone else is groaning, "Oh lordy lou, are we not done with this already?", I keep my mouth shut so as not to mock their pain and invite them to thump me, even metaphorically speaking. But inside I am going, "Wheeeeeee," in the very small voice gaaldine uses on roller coasters.
19. Others of my loved ones also provide certain parts of my internal soundtrack. Sort of as metaphors, really. Being happy like gaaldine on a roller coaster is very different from being happy like scottjames making fun of Jeff or being happy like my mom when someone else thinks I'm cool like she thinks I'm cool. Which is even different from being happy like my dad when someone else thinks I'm cool like he thinks I'm cool. The internal soundtrack has nuance.
20. And fanfares. And theme songs. And Samuel L. Jackson doing blues riffs.
21. If I had to play a brass instrument, it would be the French horn, but I'm really just as glad no one is holding my loved ones at gunpoint and demanding that I play a brass instrument.
22. If I had to repaint this office, I would probably go for a very deep coniferous green, but I'm happy with the cobalt blue it is instead.
23. If I had to design an ideal cover for one of my books, I would be very sad and curl into a little ball and moan about why oh why had they laid off the nice art department whose job it was to think about this stuff so I didn't have to. I know that for some writers this is like showing up at someone's house for dinner and finding they've made your favorite dish all wrong. For me it's like they have promised me that when I add on an extra room to my house, elves will clean it for me free of charge. And even let me thank them. I don't think this is just because I haven't sold a book, either, because I have felt this way about short story design and illustrations: my reactions have ranged from Wow, that is so cool! at the high end to Yay, I didn't have to do it myself! at the low end.
24. I'm always happy when I get illos, though, because it makes my grandmother so happy. She feels like people like my work more and respect it more if they illustrate it.
25. I am a dreaded, disgusting morning person. This has only gotten worse with the vertigo. I am trying to make matinee plans for all theatrical and musical events that allow that, because I know that no matter how much I'm enjoying the event, I will struggle with staying awake in the second half.