I’ve been tagged by Michael Anton Dila in a kind of social media “you’re it.”
The Rules for This Particular Meme
* Link to your original tagger(s) and list these rules in your post. (see above)
* Share seven facts about yourself in the post. (see below)
* Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs. (see below)
* Let them know they’ve been tagged.
I've only done one other meme in my life and there are really two reasons for me doing this one. The first is that Michael Dila is my hero. He has been my hero since age 19 when we were both in college, he at Earlham and me at Mount Holyoke and we were both in love with Nietzsche. My other reason for going along with this game is an awakening I have had of late as I spend time with tweet-peeps I have only met on the wire: Where most of my friends who haven't spent much time on Twitter and Facebook, shy away from the publicness of the life on social networks and find it somewhat creepy-- too much information thankyouverymuch-- I have come to see from these interactions that our humanity, that raw everydayness that is human, is quite a cherished gift and worthy of the moment to moment share. The more I get acquainted with this humanity, the less inclined I am to respond carelessly to whatever is going on in the lives of others whether it be violence or tragedy or joy or a moment of celebration. So it is with this intention to give myself away in that raw-everydayness kind of way that what follows follows. Also, I want you to get to know the blogs of some of the tweet-peeps I read and admire.
1. I had a best friend in Birklea British school in Norway called Fiona Young. When we did sleep-overs, her parents played classical music real loud. I wasn't used to that at all. We ate British sweets and savories-- Marmite, Drumsticks, and Refreshners --all the time and we had many many secrets. Mostly about boys. I lost her friendship to a Scottish girl named Tarla Duff who seemed to have a never-ending supply of British sweets to share with Fiona. I was too bossy to be part of the two-some suddenly.
Do you see the Refreshners? I loved them:
3. When I see a violet, I think "she" looks like my mother. If I'm by myself, I say "Hello." Friends don't always understand....but of all the things that are possible isn't it quite possible that my mother was a violet?
4. Adding "...of it" to the end of any sentence makes me laugh. So, for example: "It's the Sunday of it." {Ok... so... I agree that wasn't terribly funny. But try it. It'll crack you up in the long and the short of it.}
5. The words I regret the most? That I told my auntie to tell my parents that they could, "Throw him in the dustbin!" when they called from the hospital to tell me I had a little brother. I wanted a sister. I was 5.
6. When we lived on a farm outside of Tehran, I had a little tin wind-up toy that moved about awkwardly and looked like he took photographs. I still wish I had him. I still wish we had wind-up toys made out of tin ...and monkeys with cymbals.
7.I fell in love with Griffin, my cat, 16 years ago when he crawled up on my lap and started massaging my velvet black skirt with his little baby paws. He had me at "hello." His photo heads this edition of The Negarpontifiles.
My 7 people are:
Gerry Canavan
Juan Cole
Cathy Davidson
Amanda L. French
Rahaf Harfoush
Miss Rogue Tara Hunt
The Bloggess Jennifer Lawson
