i'll take Meme for 200.

Nina came up with this one and I think it's genius, 'specially when I have little spare time and am simultaneously facing not much creativity in the brain-stacks.  She shared things about herself that people oughtta be prepared for when meeting her in Chicago in a few weeks.  I think I'll do the same.  You can totally pick up here, Ruth, and also Jenny, and also Jen, and Mrs. Chicky, too, and Motherbumper, pretty please.  And don't diss me on this, ladies, or I'll be so royally pissed that I may not share my favorite lip gloss with you almost ever, for almost the whole weekend.  So, there.  Nyahhhh.

Um. 

Heh.

I'll come up with something.  My brain isn't producing much more than soft static, but it's gotta have DREGS in there, fer crying out loud.  After all, I only just informed Nora this morning via Ma Bell that "when I make the keychain version of [her], it'll be positive euphemisms all the time."  The brain that coughed up that furball should have a few more of those stashed somewheres.

So.

*drums fingers*

Oh!  Got one!  Alright - I'm a total dingbat when I'm nervous - I can't focus for shitttt.  I'll get three words into a sentence and look shamefaced, and the blood will drain away and I'll stammer and hum and wonder whether a complete sentence will exit my mouth again, ever, and you'll think - gosh.  She seems so proliferate online.  Huh.  (And then I'll start again and it'll nevereverever stop and you'll be like, oh, riiiiight.  She IS that proliferate.  Plus twenty times more annoying!)

And - um.

?

Oh!  I also say randomly insulting things due to nervous rambling, but rather than realize that I'm being rude and STOPPING IT, I go into rudeness-hyperdrive and the flux capacitor invades my rudeness and I'm light-years ahead, ruding it up, and the other person is standing there gaping at my rude fucking mouth, and I CANT. MAKE. IT. STOP.  It's lovely.  I'm a total joy to speak with for the first time.

On the other hand, I'm randomly quippy and funny in a new setting.  Nerves make me wryly observant.  So long as I don't get on a rude tangent.  Otherwise, it's rude city.  And not the cool ska kind, either.

Uh?  I'm kinda just as tall as I would seem, I think?  Nina?  Feel free to chime in on this one.

And my hair takes up more space than it oughtta.  I probably should consider renting it its own trundle bed.  And maybe buying it a drink once in a while. 

Um, and I tend to flaunt my freakish physical characteristics when I'm embarrassed about how I can't SEEM TO CONTROL THE VOLUME OF MY VOICE, so I turn to my oddly well-formed muscles and demonstrate pump-you-up poses so as to detract from my mouth.  It doesn't play out well from there.  As you can probably imagine.

If I drink too much I'll try to pretend I haven't and I may get real braggy-pants at a certain juncture or other.  I can usually keep it together enough to get my sad-clown-girl-self outta the joint before it descends too far into the abyss of mouth-hell.  Again I refer to Nina to act as witness regarding this and other nonsense a la Deb.

Oh!  But I have been informed by Nora that I'm good at compliments.  So I may pay you some nice ones if you can withstand the bombardment by me of the other annoying verbal missiles.

Welcome to the Molotov cocktail that is me.  With a sugar rim.

Your turn, sisters du sledge.  Give it.

(And if you're going and you wanna participate in this meme say so in the comments and I'll add you to my aforementioned taggees.  It's all embarrassing and crazy from here anyway - do you really even WANT to participate?  'Course you do.)

p.s. Nora, I promise on my child's eyes that I'll meme it up with your baton-pass next.  Swear.  The G-rated kind.

Comments

[slouching mom]

Heh. I like you, Deb.

[Sandra]

You are the best.

Guess what ... there is a wee chance I might still come.

If I do ... I am SO stalking you babe.

[Mrs. Chicky]

Day-um, woman. We must be connected or something because I was considering writing something just like this last night. I appreciate the tag, though. The credit is all yours.

Oh, just one thing. Do you have freakishly long clown feet too? Cool. Love that.

[Ruth Dynamite]

My hair would like to buy your hair a drink, providing there's space for both.

[Mignon]

Was I insulted? I don't remember that. I do remember your Lifetime Achievement Award-quality diaper bag and your slightly-spastic-but-endearing entrance and having a wonderful time and laughing and thinking you're great and funny and smart. And wasn't it muggy that day?

Your Blogher roommates and meet-ups are lucky chicks.

[lildb]

Mignon, may I just inform you that you were lucky to have not encountered the drunken Deb?

because, uh-oh, blogher conference.

uh-oh.

[qt]

"Welcome to the Molotov cocktail that is me. With a sugar rim."

Now this -this is pretty accurate!

Seriously, tho, I don't remember anything too insulting - I mean, it's all jokes right?

You are perfectly delightful and loverly - all of the ways you think you "are" when you are under the influence, well, heck, every one gets a little goofy when they are drinking. At least you can stay on your feet, you know?

Jest leave all the granny sweaters at home. Please.

[Nancy]

I am actually coming to BlogHer now, so I can check to see if your self-assessment is dead on. yay! :-)

[lildb]

Nina, you're right - it's all jokes, but I'm somehow very skilled in making them (the deprecating jokes - or insults; however they may be interpreted) sound less than jocular, or at least I always feel like that's the case. I'm glad you agree with my assessment of being like a sugary bomb. I felt good about coming up with that.

Nancy! That's fab. I'm so excited that you might be coming, as well as Sandra. This just keeps getting better n' better.

Slouching mom, you know we wish you could be there.

Mrs. Chicky, we oughtta find a car we can burst forth from, so long as we make sure to present our gigantic clown feet first.

Ruth, you are my dream roomie. Our hair might end up having a better time than we do. Darned hair. Always stealing the show.

Mignon, if you were gonna attend I would probably buy body armor in preparation. *shakes fist at Mignon for not going to blogher*

[canape]

I'm not scared. I'm stinkin' excited to meet you.

[wordgirl]

I like you, Deb...even though I'm not going to BlogHer. I've roomed with Mignon and you're missing a lot by not being able to share quarters with her at this most auspicious event.

[Jenny]

I'm not blogging right now but when I start again I'll get right on it. Long story.

I can't wait to see you.

[jen]

dude, i might accidentally tickle people when they are sleeping. so be forewarned, sister...be very forewarned.

seven days!

[Binky]

I'm so depressed that you all are going to get to know each other and I will be home, getting further irradiated by the nuclear power plant down the street.

[Jana]

You sound like just my kind girl! I'm so gonna get in with Sandra on that stalking action.

[Amber]

Big Hair Contest at BlogHer, anyone?