Thursday, August 17, 2006

day 1: "More List Yourself"

From the book More List Yourself: Listmaking as the Way to Personal Discovery, by Ilene Segalove and Pual Bob Velick.

I'm going to do a a few entries of this, online, every day...well, that's my plan. So here goes:

Chapter 1: Day to Day

List your daily rituals that mean the most to you.
A few years ago (in April 2002 I wrote this) is was giving Gomer his twice-daily insulin shots...and weekly blood-sugar-level tests. That "meant the most to me" because he meant so much to me. Later on, his diabetes went away, but he developed cancer in his jaw. Then Jerry and I had to give him subcutaneous fluids, to keep him properly hydrated. And baby aspirin, too, for his pain.

Other than that, "rituals" and "mean the most to you" are confusing. I have rituals, in that I have I have things I do each day, but I don't think of them as meaning a lot to me. They just need to be done. Or, perhaps thinking of the question in terms of what's important to be done, I suppose taking my prescription medicines and vitamin supplements (multi-vitamin and calcium) means a lot, since I'm getting older. Or, sunscreen is important to me, since I'm fair haired and fair skinned. I know that I could get in trouble health-wise if I didn't keep up with that.

I'll try to think of more later, but this was a tough question to start with, I think.


List the weirdest or most exotic foods you're eaten.
I have a pretty woosy appetite for odd things. I ate (I had to chew it as part of the bargain) half an oyster for 75 cents once, in Biloxi, Mississippi, at the famous restaurant (now gone) Baricev's. See what I mean about woosy.

I tasted a Wasabi-coated peanut Jerry offered me once. It was foul and left my mouth tout de suite!

I gave a fried mushroom a second try not long again, since Jerry likes them so much. That left my mouth even faster than the Wasabi peanut. Mushrooms are way too musty and shit-like for me!

In the French Market in New Orleans once I dared try a bit of hot sauce someone offered me. I was no fool and knew not to take more than a pin-dot-sized drop, to put on a piece of popcorn. That tiny, tiny drop put me over the top for about 45 minutes. I should've known that any hot sauce that is nearly black is too intense for living beings. I drooled and spat, sucked on ice, and futiley searched out some milk for what seemed like infinity.