1. If you could leave a time capsule the size of a microwave that would be opened in a century, what would you put in it to represent the world now?
Hmmm. I don't know if I would be comfortable with the responsibility of representing the world. I would probably try to represent here.
Hmmm. I don't know if I would be comfortable with the responsibility of representing the world. I would probably try to represent here.
Ergo, I would put in things like pieces of artwork that depict the city (I have a particular one in mind but can't find it on the whole of the world wide web! Tch.) A miniature Super Lamb Banana. The White Album. But none of these things would really translate. There is a feel about this city, maybe because it's home. My boyfriend tells a story about when he was young, being dragged around town shopping by his parents and complaining that it was boring, when his uncle told him to look up. He did and has been fascinated by the architecture of Liverpool ever since. I know it inspires a mixed reaction, but I love my accent. I love scouse boys. I love the waterfront. There are plenty of things I don't like, too. But this city has a soul, and it's the soul I love. Can you fit a soul into a microwave?
2. What was your favourite childhood toy?
When I was little, I loved books and Barbie in pretty much equal measures. None of my Barbie's were called Barbie; they all had individual names, personalities, and careers. One of my Barbie's had pink and purple streaks in her crimped hair, was called Rachel, dated 'Paul' and was in medical school. I made a stack of medical textbooks out of paper for her to carry around in a bowling bag I think I got with Ken. A denim jacket I got with a different Barbie was always 'hers'. But I think my favourite thing was the house. I got it one Christmas when I was really young, along with a bunch of furniture and a plastic mat painted up to be a garden. One day, I decided I was going to run away for some reason; I packed sandwiches, a Barbie, the Barbie bed and the plastic garden. I think I planned to run away to my grandmothers, who lived about five streets away. I was always very ambitious.
3. Why do you blog? (I'm always curious why people do...)
I started blogging because I love to write, but don't have the discipline or the belief in myself (or the talent) to write anything more solid than witterings from my daily life. I persevered with it because I enjoyed it and because it really helped me to stop writing in such an academic style. Sometimes I become disillusioned with blogging because I start to question the merits of my meagre contributions to the blogosphere. I think, who would want to read this? Is this valid? Posts like "Guess what happened today, oh my God, Alfie walked into a building, and then, then, he walked out! Insert crisis here," really don't help, but I find them cathartic. Writing a post is my way of getting these thoughts organised in my head.
I've also met some wicked people through blogging and sometimes I'll write something and will look forward to someones reaction to it. If I manage to finagle a comment out of a long time lurker, or a reluctant voice like MJ, it's a great feeling. And I actually miss people when they don't comment or don't update their own blogs for a while. I suppose that at its best, blogging makes me feel connected.
4. What's the hardest lesson you ever learned?
I'm struggling to answer this one because I don't want to sound pitiful. But in the spirit of catharsis, here it is. I'm still learning this lesson. And it's this: my voice deserves to be heard. I hate the way that sounds. I don't mean that my voice is more important than anyone elses, or that I have anything phenomenally insightful or rewarding to say. What I mean to say is, I have as much right to voice my opinion as anyone else; I matter, too. This sounds like a very generic answer, so I'll flesh it out some.
It came as a revelation to me at the age of about sixteen that instead of worrying whether someone liked me, I might want to consider whether I liked them. A revelation. When I met my boyfriend at seventeen, I fell for him because he made me feel like I was worth speaking to and spending time with - he was interested in me, what I had to say; he sought out my opinion before the opinion of others, he wanted to get to know me. Plus, he was crazily hot. I couldn't believe my luck.
I was a wallflower at school. My method of survival was to keep my head down. I still walk past people I know in the street sometimes because of this, or I don't say hello to people I went to school with, because I assume they won't remember me. Once, when I came top in an exam, the teacher didn't recognise my name and had to ask who I was. There are times when I try to be invisible, to go unnoticed. In a group, I am never the loud person. I don't fight to be heard. When I am unsure of myself, I become very softly spoken; my voice drops a few octaves mid-sentence. I can feel myself doing this, but I can't stop it. I am often talked over.
I am not a doormat, I stand up for myself and for others. Sometimes, I take this to extremes, and later, I regret it.
When I was born, the younger of my two sisters was ten years old. She resented me, and still does, because she wasn't the baby anymore. She personifies the term "middle child syndrome." I made her feel like nobody loved her anymore; I've felt like an imposition my whole life. When I talk, or sometimes just by being there, I feel like I'm imposing myself on you.
In almost every relationship or group situation, I feel expendable. Wearing my heart on my sleeve with Alfie, was one of the biggest risks I've ever taken in my life. And yet I ran into it blindly, with eagerness and almost without hesitation.
5. A dinner party for you and six people, who do you invite and why? (famous, not famous, alive or dead... you can invite whoever)
Although I am sure I would enjoy a dinner party for my nearest and dearest a whole lot more, let's plunge straight into fantasy land (I'm thinking of setting up house there permanently) and go with a cast of people I will never get to meet.
2. What was your favourite childhood toy?
When I was little, I loved books and Barbie in pretty much equal measures. None of my Barbie's were called Barbie; they all had individual names, personalities, and careers. One of my Barbie's had pink and purple streaks in her crimped hair, was called Rachel, dated 'Paul' and was in medical school. I made a stack of medical textbooks out of paper for her to carry around in a bowling bag I think I got with Ken. A denim jacket I got with a different Barbie was always 'hers'. But I think my favourite thing was the house. I got it one Christmas when I was really young, along with a bunch of furniture and a plastic mat painted up to be a garden. One day, I decided I was going to run away for some reason; I packed sandwiches, a Barbie, the Barbie bed and the plastic garden. I think I planned to run away to my grandmothers, who lived about five streets away. I was always very ambitious.3. Why do you blog? (I'm always curious why people do...)
I started blogging because I love to write, but don't have the discipline or the belief in myself (or the talent) to write anything more solid than witterings from my daily life. I persevered with it because I enjoyed it and because it really helped me to stop writing in such an academic style. Sometimes I become disillusioned with blogging because I start to question the merits of my meagre contributions to the blogosphere. I think, who would want to read this? Is this valid? Posts like "Guess what happened today, oh my God, Alfie walked into a building, and then, then, he walked out! Insert crisis here," really don't help, but I find them cathartic. Writing a post is my way of getting these thoughts organised in my head.I've also met some wicked people through blogging and sometimes I'll write something and will look forward to someones reaction to it. If I manage to finagle a comment out of a long time lurker, or a reluctant voice like MJ, it's a great feeling. And I actually miss people when they don't comment or don't update their own blogs for a while. I suppose that at its best, blogging makes me feel connected.
4. What's the hardest lesson you ever learned?
I'm struggling to answer this one because I don't want to sound pitiful. But in the spirit of catharsis, here it is. I'm still learning this lesson. And it's this: my voice deserves to be heard. I hate the way that sounds. I don't mean that my voice is more important than anyone elses, or that I have anything phenomenally insightful or rewarding to say. What I mean to say is, I have as much right to voice my opinion as anyone else; I matter, too. This sounds like a very generic answer, so I'll flesh it out some.
It came as a revelation to me at the age of about sixteen that instead of worrying whether someone liked me, I might want to consider whether I liked them. A revelation. When I met my boyfriend at seventeen, I fell for him because he made me feel like I was worth speaking to and spending time with - he was interested in me, what I had to say; he sought out my opinion before the opinion of others, he wanted to get to know me. Plus, he was crazily hot. I couldn't believe my luck.
I was a wallflower at school. My method of survival was to keep my head down. I still walk past people I know in the street sometimes because of this, or I don't say hello to people I went to school with, because I assume they won't remember me. Once, when I came top in an exam, the teacher didn't recognise my name and had to ask who I was. There are times when I try to be invisible, to go unnoticed. In a group, I am never the loud person. I don't fight to be heard. When I am unsure of myself, I become very softly spoken; my voice drops a few octaves mid-sentence. I can feel myself doing this, but I can't stop it. I am often talked over.
I am not a doormat, I stand up for myself and for others. Sometimes, I take this to extremes, and later, I regret it.
When I was born, the younger of my two sisters was ten years old. She resented me, and still does, because she wasn't the baby anymore. She personifies the term "middle child syndrome." I made her feel like nobody loved her anymore; I've felt like an imposition my whole life. When I talk, or sometimes just by being there, I feel like I'm imposing myself on you.
In almost every relationship or group situation, I feel expendable. Wearing my heart on my sleeve with Alfie, was one of the biggest risks I've ever taken in my life. And yet I ran into it blindly, with eagerness and almost without hesitation.
5. A dinner party for you and six people, who do you invite and why? (famous, not famous, alive or dead... you can invite whoever)
Although I am sure I would enjoy a dinner party for my nearest and dearest a whole lot more, let's plunge straight into fantasy land (I'm thinking of setting up house there permanently) and go with a cast of people I will never get to meet.
Robert Kennedy. I am really interested in the Kennedy's and the Civil Rights movement and count this man as one of my heroes.
Virginia Woolf. Anyone who can sell stream-of-consciousness writing is someone I have to meet.Homi K. Bhabha. Is it massively geeky that I have a favourite literary theorist? Wait, don't even answer that one.
Amy Winehouse. I have to invite her! You know I'm Amy's bitch.
Oscar Wilde. A blatantly obvious choice which, I feel, requires no explanation. The man went to jail for the sake of a witty riposte. That's commitment.
Kate Winslet. Completely beautiful, down to earth, and articulate.
Voila!
I think I'm a bit slow on the uptake here and everyone has already been interviewed, but if you are interested, here are the rules:
- Leave me a comment including your email address saying, “Interview me!”
- I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick them, and you have to answer them all. I'm real bossy like that.
- You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
- You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
- You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
- When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
8 comments:
I am really loving these question posts going around. I love knowing a little more about my blogosphere friends...
1. I now MUST HAVE a Super Lamb Banana. They are awesome and wonderful. I'd prefer the Christmas Banana if anyone's buying. I like the sparkles.
2. Medical School Barbie!!! You're awesome. I just read books about ancient history and vampires.
3. I, personally, love your writing. I think you'd be a great novelist. Of course, I'd also love to read your academic writing because I am pretty much the definition of NERD. And of course we care about what you write, even when you think it's unimportant. We care about YOU!
4. God I wish everyone, specifically every woman, could learn this lesson. We all matter, and as long as we speak our minds with a bit of tact, we all always deserve to be heard.
5. GREAT choices. I am going to have to steal that one and do my own post on it.
1. The SLB is a controversial piece of art. Many people hate it. I have ridiculed it myself, but it's a cheerful looking thing and I like it. Also, psssst, if you click the link that is my work building behind the 'banana. I pass it every day! Glad you like it.
2. I also had Lawyer Barbie. She once prosecuted Ken for a hit and run.
3 & 4. You're lovely and thank you!
5. All credit to Brandy for great questions!
I agree, these interviews are rather good! x
Excellent answers! Barbie? Oscar Wilde?? You are officially my favourite person today! (I wrote every possible theatre paper I could on the Oscar. The man was a genius!)
You know me and my need for anonymity, but I do try and comment when I think you're doing yourself a disservice and putting out a biased view against yourself. You're the opposite of unloveable and expendable. Like you say, you dont put up with any crap and you dont follow the herd either. Your an individual and always true to yourself, even when it's been really hard and caused you loads of grief you've held your corner and Ive always admired that about you.
Interview me!! newdorktimes@gmail.com
I would love to have dinner with Kate Winslet. She seems like she would be an awesome friend!
I played with Barbies, but I usually got sick of it after I changed their outfits once.
Ooh please interview me, I've already done two but from two people I love and you're my third (it goes in no order of preference) - ooh ooh!
Also:
I love you, you can write and you are an amazing person, really.
I hate that you might have ever felt that you didn't matter - because you really are special - to me, to everyone - don't ever go changing, ok?
I forgot the 'interview me' bit. interview me!
but interview me after you've finished your chapter, slackerrrrr!
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