a major award!

JayG thinks I'm a stylish blogger and for that dubious honor, I must perform a task:


The rules of this award are that you then list seven things about yourself that other people might not know. And then pass the award to 15 other bloggers. (Nope, you can't make me. Blog it if you want.)



1.) I won a contest to name twin tiger cubs and part of my award was a behind-the-scenes tour of the zoo, during which I had a minor monkey-brain "OMG! giant carnivore! Run away, fling poo!" panic attack when I realized I was about a foot away from a bear - who was elderly...and asleep...and in a cage. I also got to feed the giraffes, which was a lot more fun.

2.) One of my older brothers is the drummer for one of Cleveland's most notorious punk bands of the 1980s.

3.) I road the bus home on the last day of high school - because I was just that dorky. I didn't get my driver's license until I was 20.

4.) I used to hate bacon - the ribbons of fat gave me the squicks.

5.) I took acrobatics classes when I was young and can still do awesome cartwheels.

6.) I am missing both fibulas, kinda sorta.

7.) I won the school spelling bee in the 8th grade by correctly spelling the word "obstinate." My mother still finds this mildly hilarious.

comfortable in my own skin

For a couple of years now, I've had horribly sensitive skin and I'm not quite sure why things changed so drastically. My mother tells me it happens as you age (thanks, Mom!) but its onset also coincides with an allergic reaction to a spider bite. Either way, it seems lately that every little thing either makes my skin red and itchy or dry and itchy. Clothing feels like it's made out of steel wool, lotions give me hives, soap leaves my hands raw, and I have scratched hard enough to leave bruises without realizing it. And on top of all that, Ohio winters! Dry heat, icy winds...a tender hide can really make a person miserable.

So in an effort to remain itch-free, almost every product I use is something-free: fragrance-free, preservative-free, SLS-free...and, oh, whatever they put in practically every single soap nowadays to make it "antibacterial"? That stuff is the absolute worst. Might as well just rub myself with nettles. Anyway, I've whittled down my beauty products. I use sensitive skin baby wash, a shampoo and conditioner from Trader Joe's (which is, according to the ingredient list, is an exact duplicate of a much more expensive brand), Dove sensitive skin deodorant (do you know how hard it is to find unscented deodorant?), and...olive oil.

Yep, I found a terrific, all-natural, moisturizing lotion in the grocery store, right next to the Crisco. A little bit of light olive oil rubbed in after I get out of the shower and I've got a perfect buffer between me and a very prickly world.

Hangin' with the guys.

We guess http://thebredafallacy.blogspot.com/ is written by a man (59%), however it's quite gender neutral.

Trust me - I'm female. The embarrassingly large nail polish collection can attest to that. But what do you think it was that confused the test? The bacon? The guns? The beer? I know it wasn't the kitten photos.

(h/t Ted)

you'll be shocked, but...

I don't like Monty Python.

It's not for lack of trying, either. I've seen the reruns on PBS, listened to the CDs, even watched the films. I laughed once during Life of Brian. Once. I've never found slapsticky, physical humor funny, in fact it kind of makes me embarrassed and uncomfortable. Combine that with pasty British men with bad haircuts, Eric Idle's screechy falsetto, and how the 1970s were so ugly aesthetically and well, I just find the whole mess hard to watch. I do, however, love the Terry Gilliam animations.

Mike thinks it's all hysterical, of course, and during our marriage I've discovered (much to my dismay) that there seems to be a Python sketch suitable for any situation because he'll quote them at any opportunity. I've since warned him that if he ever calls the reference desk asking for a "Sale of Two Titties" or "Carnaby Fudge" his personal librarian will not find it very amusing. The cheese case at Whole Foods is irresistible, though, and at that point I give up and pretend I don't know him.

Anyway, it seems Monty Python's comedy isn't quite as fantastically original as all you geeks weirdos fans assume. Ha ha. (although, I'll admit I find the history of jokes interesting. It's like etymology. So...who's the geek now? Me. Pot, kettle, oh well.)

At the movies

We're staying in and watching It Happened One Night with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert tonight. I haven't ever seen it, which really surprised Mike because he knows how much I like old movies, especially those from the 1930s. The fashion, the cars, the art deco look to everything...fantastic. And, of course, everything always looks better in black and white.

One of my favorite on screen couples from that era has to be the charming and funny Nick and Nora Charles, from the Thin Man movies...Cheers!

call me Kate?

I've long been a fan of both Hepburns - Audrey for style and Katherine for wit - so I was pleased to see my results for...

The Classic Dames Test...

Katharine Hepburn

You scored 26% grit, 5% wit, 52% flair, and 29% class!

You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women.

Take The Classic Dames Test at HelloQuizzy

(maybe I could star in a witty western with Ahab, who passed along this much needed diversion.)

oh, gosh!

I almost forgot.

One year ago today, I began one of the most enriching and transformative projects of my life. It's my 1st bloggerversary*!

And by reading and commenting you all have helped me become stronger, smarter and more sure. More myself. So thank you.

*I say "blogger"-versary, because I used to dabble around on another blog before I came here. Poke around enough and you might find it.

hue & cry

I've always been very sensitive to color - the wrong combination of colors can set my teeth on edge. (Oh, no...not the olive with the turquoise! I don't care if they're both green, Mike. Just no.) Patterns drive me crazy, which is why I'd rather look at the half-unfinished walls in our house than the variety of slate blue, burnt orange, and goldenrod country-fied wallpapers the previous owners had put up. But put a luscious cobalt next to the perfect crisp apple green? Bliss. A deep velvety eggplant next to a creamy golden ecru? Oh, my. Heaven.

I could go completely deaf tomorrow and never really miss music. But lose my beloved colors? Might as well just put me somewhere quiet so I can just whither away. When my father died, one of the things I knew I wanted was his old, beat-up book of calibrated colors. He was a union painter and would carry it with him to work everyday. When I was a child, I'd love to just marvel at all the slight differences in hue and gradation. I'd put colors side by side to see how they looked together and when I found a particularly good combination - it was as if something resonated within me. "Ahhhh," my brain seemed to say, humming with satisfaction. "Perfect."

And like a chef that can taste a dish, identify all the ingredients, and reproduce it, I can see a color and then copy it in paint. Or perhaps it's more like a musician with perfect pitch. Perfect palette perhaps? Whatever it's called, I think I might have it.

I took this test and got 100%.

heh.

...but you all knew this already, didn't you?

(And now, I'm off to the range staying home and doing some housewifey things. And then maybe I'll read a book in the garden. All while wearing my gun. Nerdy gun chick!)

Random Fact #3

I collect pop-up books.

For all of you who are visiting from view from the porch and wondering, "What's the deal with Breda and octopi?"...allow me to explain.

I don't hate octopi, they just freak me out. (the link will take you to some amazing videos. Totally worth watching) Strangely beautiful, they are way smarter than something that can squeeze itself down to the size of its own eyeball should be and can camouflage themselves to perfectly match their surroundings. I used to visit the octopus at the Cleveland zoo and stare at it for long stretches of time, hypnotized by its fluid movements and subtle color changes. I like to think that it was looking back at me as it pressed up against the glass that separated us.

There were often toys and puzzles in its tank to keep that big brain occupied and happy, something zookeepers refer to as "enrichment." I never did witness the octopus play with an item. I suspect it waited until after the all visitors had gone home, so as not to give itself away while it was planning total world domination.

And just today I learned that, in zoos around Europe, they've been giving the octopi Rubik's cubes.

Somehow I doubt that they'll resort to rearranging the stickers (like I did.)

okay, here's a random fact

Go to any "ethnic" restaurant in your area and sit within earshot of the kitchen. The staff will typically chat back and forth and/or yell instructions in their native language. It can be Chinese, Thai, Spanish, Indian, Arabic, whatever. Spend some time listening and I guarantee that you will hear the word "okay" interspersed here and there.

The other day, Mike and I went to a nearby Chinese buffet. They have the most fantastic lo mein and garlic green beans, plus I am a sucker for those soft serve machines - I like my vanilla with litchi fruits. Sitting at a table behind us was a Latino couple, speaking Spanish. The husband went up to one of the people in charge of restocking the food and asked,"Spaghetti, okay?" while pointing to the empty pan. The restaurant employee, whose first language was clearly also non-English, answered, "Okay," and went to go make some more lo mein. Two people, three languages and no one was misunderstood.

"Okay" - sometimes a verb, sometimes a noun - is always understood, no matter the context or inflection. A tiny word that can transcend race and language barriers, travel around the world and still retain its meaning? Pretty extraordinary...and altogether beautiful in its simplicity and universality.

I love words. More specifically, I love the history of words...how words came to be, how they travel throughout time, how they change, how they change us. Etymology. And, not surprisingly, powerful little "okay", the worldwide verbal nod, has a quirky past.

Random fact #2

I like my sandwiches to be symmetrical.

Bread, condiment, meat, lettuce, cheese, lettuce, meat, condiment, bread...edible palindromes.

I'll eat sandwiches that aren't in the proper order, of course, but I really prefer it when the condiment touches only the meat and the bread because condiments on lettuce = squidgey wilty lettuce, eeew. There is a method to my madness, you know. And, honestly, it'd probably be better for me if you just waved the knife with the mayonnaise on it over the bread, without actually touching the bread. Mayo squishing out the sandwich sides? Ack.

There. I have bared a part of my soul and now you know me a bit better. But be warned - I'll slip in the occasional random fact (aka the "hmm, Breda is little weird") posts because they make great blog filler on days when I can't manage to come up with anything better. I apologize in advance.

Random Fact #1

Octopi freak me out.

Described as what is essentially just a big clever brain with arms, they can not only squeeze their entire bodies through a hole the size of a quarter, they can also open jars, solve puzzles, communicate their emotions, have favorite toys, and this:

They change color to blend into their surroundings, plus they can perfectly match texture too.

They also seem to be working on becoming bipedal. Great, just great.

(notice how the octopus is using 2 legs to walk and is mimicking seaweed for camouflage with the other 6) I'm glad that they're not air-breathers - they'd be picking your locks, sneaking into your house, and raiding your fridge in the middle of the night. And then when you venture down into the kitchen to figure out just what that noise was, the octopus would go poof! and disappear into the linoleum or morph into a head of lettuce in the veggie bin.