Shannon over at Sew Thrifty gave me an award! Thankyou Shannon. I’m trying to convince Shannon she should buy a treadle Singer she has fallen in love with.
2 I really hate the Twilight novels and I can tell you exactly how bad they are because I read all four of them over about two weeks. They are the most perniciously addictive collection of horrifying gender role constructions which I hope never to succumb to again when I re-read, and you should keep them away from your children.
3 When I was a teenager, my family nicknamed me Mordilla. It was the early nineties, and I went around with dyed-black hair, droopy long dresses from Dangerfield, too much eyeshadow, slatherings of that dark matte Poppy lipstick, and a surly disposition. I wasn’t a Goth (though I certainly had the pallor for it), that was just how a lot of teen girls were doing themselves up at the time. Anyway, a lot of work went into constructing the look and my parents took to heckling me out of the bathroom. “Why do you put on all that makeup- you look like Morticia Addams, you dill pickle!” Dad niggled. Mum hooted “She’s Mor-DILL-a! Mor-DILL-a! Get it? Hahahahahahahahahaha!” From then on whenever they wanted to hog the bathroom for showering or teethbrushing they’d just stand in the doorway braying “MOR-dilla! Mor-DILLA!” until I cried out in frustration and had to flee down the hallway scowling, their guffaws ringing in my ears.
4 I really want to write a novel, but have absolutely no idea what to write about.
5 I can tie a knot in a cherry stalk with my tongue, but let me tell you, it is a lot less winsome-looking when I do it than when Audrey Horne did. Whenever we get cherries Simon asks me not to do it.
6 One Saturday when I was eight, I looked up from my Charlie Brown ‘Cyclopedia to inform my father that there were microscopic animals living in our stomachs. “Sure as hell are, Skunkette!” he confirmed, momentarily looking up from Wide World of Sports. “There’s like, little tiny micro-worms that live in your eyebrows, too!” Dad turned back to the TV and I continued to leaf through my encyclopedia but I couldn’t stop thinking about the micro-worms, so a few minutes later I got up and went to the bathroom to try to see them; finding none I took Dad’s razor and shaved my eyebrows right off. Still couldn’t see them. School pictures were taken the following Monday.
