Moving along, though. Questions! Answers! I trust you can figure which is which in the list below.
- How long have you been knitting? Will you make me a hat? (Just joking about the hat, but seriously - Did you learn this as a child from your Grandma, or pick it up as an adult...?)
Hmm. When did I take that up? Five? Six? Seven years ago? Something like that, I'm sure. Back in the dawn of the new crafting revolution, when knitting was still "the new yoga," my friend Lisa decided she wanted to learn, so she asked me to take a community ed knitting class with her. We learned in the after-hours classroom of a high school in St. Paul, from a pair of old ladies who were somebody's grandmas, though not either of my grandmas, obviously. The funny thing is, it was Lisa who wanted to take the knitting class, but it's me who's stuck with it since then. Correct me if I'm wrong, Lisa, but I'm not sure she actually ever finished a single project.
As for the hat, you do realize, 3Cs, that giving you a hand-knit hat would require me to learn both your real full name AND your address? We all know that is not going to happen. Maybe I'll just make a hat and email you a picture of it and say it's yours. Sound good?
- Imagine some type of cheese martial law has been enforced. You may have only three different types of cheese from now on, and one must be permanently banned from your life. What are your choices?
This is a terribly mean question, though I can't decide if it is mean primarily because of the implied stereotype about my Wisconsin roots or because the mere thought of a world in which only three cheeses are allowed is simply too terrible to bear. Alas, it is thankfully a mere hypothetical, and as such, I'll answer it as best I can.
First off, we must keep mozzarella, because without mozzarella, there would be no pizza, not to mention no caprese salad, which is a summertime staple, if you ask me. Also, we must have cream cheese, because without cream cheese, there is little point to a bagel. Plus, do we want to live in a world with no cheesecake? I think not. That leaves only one slot for the more traditional slice-and-eat or melt-in-food varieties, and for those, I'm gonna have to go with Swiss. Wait. Saying "Swiss" entitles me to Gruyere as well, right? And Jarlsberg? Those fall under that same umbrella; do they not? Whew.
Now for the tough part. Which of our lovely cheese friends would I ban? Strangely, I think I'd have to go with cheddar. Yes, yes, cheddar is traditionally responsible for the cheesy goodness in mac and cheese, but I'm pretty sure there's a loophole that would allow me a "cheese food" (i.e., not-quite-cheese chemical substitutes) to enjoy in mac and cheese (as well as cheesy potatoes) instead, and as I'm apt to grab a slice of cold, plain cheddar only if there's no other option nearby, I really don't think I'd miss the real thing all that much.
- What was the first concert you attended?
I had rather strict parents, and as such, I have no memories of piling in a car with a group of high school friends to drive to Milwaukee or Green Bay for any shows. I did try to see the Violent Femmes at Summerfest once, but my terribly supportive older sister nixed that plan for me by telling my mother that my friends were all druggies and I would get trampled at that show. (Thanks, sis! It's a wonder we weren't closer back then, isn't it?)
Hence, the first show I attended that I actively really wanted to see was REM, summer after my junior year of college. It was an excellent first "real" concert, mind you, but the fact that it happened so late in my life only serves to support the "late bloomer" thing I've mentioned more than once.
That said, I do recall seeing various shows pretty much not on purpose. My dad was a member of the local Jaycees, and they brought a "big-name" musical act to the high school gym in our town at least once or twice during my youth. My parents still have a signed poster in their basement from the Billy "Crash" Craddock show, and from a Sha Na Na one as well. And I do remember seeing a band called the Jack D'Johns with my parents at the State Fair and various other family-friendly events numerous times as a kid. I am guessing none of you have ever heard of them, but look! They are still around! And they have a Web page! Who knew.
- If you participated in a white elephant exchange tomorrow, what random, unusual item in your home would you give up?
Hmm. I have a particle board dresser I bought in college that I've been meaning to Craig's List, but I think that exceeds the usual acceptable size for white elephant gifts. I could give up Paco, the brightly colored paper-mâché rabbit I bought at Goodwill a few years ago, who now lives in my newly renovated basement... But if I did that, I wouldn't have a fun conversation piece or a photo prop for parties. Obviously I'd have to think on this.
- Imagine that the year of Stef (the sequel: 2009: Victory is Mine) culminates in finding the man of your dreams. A wedding is being planned. Do you envision a big "Oh my gosh am I really spending this much on something that lasts only a few hours" wedding, or would you be more likely to keep it simple?
Honestly, I have never been one of those girls who had her wedding planned since her pre-teen years. The rare times I think about the specifics of such an event, I tend to completely forget about rather obvious details... you know, like the fact that my family would be there and not just my friends, and that I'd actually have to live my personal nightmare and repeatedly call numerous strangers at various places of business to secure quotes and garner buckets of details. Perish the thought.
If I were to get married, though, I think it would be something in between the "keep it simple" and the "oh my gosh" plan. My goal would be "keep it simple," but I'd also want to throw a big, fun party. Hence, I doubt I'd spend a fortune on a fancy white dress (and I doubt even more that any church would be getting any cash from me to host the ceremony), but I do know I'd want to make sure my friends were happily liquored up and the surroundings were at amply lovely. Oh, and I'd want to have Nabbalicious there to take photos, because seriously, have you seen her work? So I'd spend a bit flying her in and paying her for her trouble. And then I'd take whatever other cash we might have squandered on such an event and use it for a fantastic honeymoon, of course.