The funniest thing happened…
Posted November 28, 2007on:
I was smack in the middle of a second romp through The Owl Service, working my way through the language and trying to get a better handle on my reactions, when the author appeared and told me that my efforts are hopeless, the book will *”tell me nothing”. Now my brain is malfunctioning because the neurons are frantically trying to reverse the information retrieval. What should I do? (To lay everything on the table I have not dismissed the possibility that it was my thesis advisor in disguise.)
A weird-facts-about-me meme! Dewey tagged me.
1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag seven people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.
1. I’m not a big hip hop/dancehall fan. Apparently my skin colour and/or nationality was supposed to genetically transfer these traits to me, but I would not be surprised to learn that the delivery stork dropped me before I made it to the hospital. If the listener is West Indian I allay all fears by crowing about Beres Hammond; I’m actually more of a Super Ape kinda girl, but if the listener is under 30 I’ll get no response. If she is North American I will earnestly express an interest in jazz, but that rarely works, or she replies with something about Norah Jones/Diana Krall, and I disappear.
2. I don’t have a Jamaican accent, or at least not a strong one. This has puzzled my peers (as well as myself, really, although it’s never an issue unless someone brings it up) for decades, since I was born and raised there. I’ve given all kinds of explanations: raised at a hotel for 12 years; went to a school at which most of the kids (or at least my friends) did not speak the local patois often (we had students from Canada, Surinam, China, Ireland); and my mother forbade it at home. Rarely do any of these explanations completely satisfy acquaintances so they conclude (or the assumption lingers) that I put on an “accent” in order to give the impression that I come from “foreign” and am therefore in some way superior to the local citizenry.
My general disinterest in dancehall (and hip hop, when it became big) did not help.
Conversely, I get really annoyed when I meet second generation Jamaicans here who compliment me on how “well” I speak.
3. The only tv station I watch is Turner Classic Movies. I may suffer through tv news (BBC World, which isn’t bad) but I can’t stand tv news shows in general. I don’t like the performance aspect. Gets on my nerves.
4. I would live in Newfoundland, if I could. It’s just that bioethics isn’t big up there.
5. I really like romance novels, even though I’m no longer the kind that goes through 4 books every month. (That more accurately describes my yearly purchase these days, as I enjoy the works of less and less authors.) There are lots of “literary” readers who proudly reveal their love for certain genres like mysteries or science fiction, but romance books seem to be at the bottom of the barrel, the one you really, really don’t want to be seen reading.
While romance fans often read pretty diversely, I rarely come across one (well I never have, off or online) who is as devoutly interested as I am in non-genre works. The closest to my ideal (ha ha) is Dark Orpheus, who doesn’t read romance, but manga, which is probably hanging around with romance near the bottom of the barrel.
6. I went to a boarding school that wasn’t for the rich. The typical view is that such schools offer a rarefied experience where you play…lacrosse (?) in your little dorms, jump around in plaid skirts and jet off to Paris for weekends. Of the three years I attended mind the school fee was lower than my elementary school’s. In the newer buildings there were only six to a dorm, but in the older buildings you were typically living in a huuuuge room with about 30 bunk beds. If one was lucky it had lockers at the side. The water supply was erratic so it was prudent to keep a bucket filled with water in case that was what you had to shower with in the morning.
Until recently, Jamaican boarding schools were subsidised by the government, so their high quality academics and discipline were available to a much larger segment of the population.
7. Sometimes, when I’m feeling giddy, I seriously consider staging a broadway Shakespeare adaptation on the roofs of one of the campus buildings. Then I usually segue into wondering whether I should become a professor so I can get tenure and then be able to wear a cape (and maybe a top hat) to class and not give a fuck.
*I don’t think he appreciated my enlightened, cogent assessment of Gilgamesh either.