Fond of rumpots, crackpots, and how are you, Mr. Wilson?

With any luck, I'll be done with this ask me anything deal just in time for St. Patrick's Day! So, forging ahead, winterlitwings asked me the following:

The scariest film you've ever watched?

Unfortunately, I'm kind of the wrong person to ask this one, because as some readers of this will attest I don't really do horror. I have a standard answer as to why, but the more I ponder the question the more I realize that the actual answer isn't quite what I'd thought. For the longest time it broke down to two parts:

1) Being scared isn't fun for me. True that, but considering the number of "20 scariest scenes of all time" YouTube videos I've voluntarily watched over the years, I don't think this one is as true as I'd assumed. Yes, my hands might be over my eyes, but I'm doing the peer-between-my-fingers bit.

2) I have a low tolerance for gore. Also true, rather more of an issue, and the principle I use when asking friends if I should go see X movie, but there's a general assumption that my gore tolerance threshold is a lot lower than it actually is. Blood, for instance, doesn't bug me in the slightest (Kill Bill Vol. I, which single-handedly kept the squib business in the black for years after, was a breeze for me). Viscera are much more hit-or-miss in terms of being able to deal, but if that sort of thing pops up unexpectedly I either cringe hard or just close my eyes, then keep going—I made it all the way through Shaun of the Dead with no issues, and even after the one scene I found excessive for my tastes, my reaction at worst was, "EWW! That was excessive!" Similarly, the cat scene from Dogtooth made me wince, but the rewatch went fine. Aside from a few hard-limit squicks like cannibalism, I have the feeling blaming my horror aversion entirely on gore is missing the mark a bit.

Which brings us to the only-recently-realized 3) Torture and excessive cruelty will drive me out of the room. Not that people are injured and dying, but that they're injured, dying, and terrified, and it's met by sadism or (worse) indifference. This is the bit that I cannot get around, and it's the one that annoys me no end, because it not only keeps me from most if not all horror, but a bunch of other stuff as well. It's why I haven't seen Pan's Labyrinth or more than the first three minutes of Slumdog Millionaire or even flippin' Deadpool. It's why I'm the only person in my office who'll have nothing to do with Game of Thrones. As a film lover, knowing that there are whole swaths of great films that I'll never see because of this one bit of crawliness bugs the living pudding out of me.

Okay, so after all that blather, I never did answer the original question. I do occasionally watch horror if it's interesting-looking and not torture porn or notoriously nasty, and whether I find it especially frightening is largely context-dependent; take, for example, my attempt to watch The Shining at midnight alone with the lights off. (I didn't make it.) In that capacity, I think the winner is Aliens, because during the scene where Ripley and Newt are trapped in the closed lab with the alien spawn scuttling about somewhere unseen, my then-wife Kristi decided to affectionately brush the back of my neck with her fingernails. I full expect that her continued non-murdered breathing existence earns me at least a year off of purgatory.

Also, I really want to see The Witch. Just putting that out there.

Want to ask me something? By my guest!

I have my strongest hopes yet for LiveJournal's impending resurgence: behold, the return of memes, the most prodigal of sons! While we're all partying like it's 2005, brujah has assigned me the number 15, meaning I am to provide 15 random facts about myself, a game of which my blogger's egomania can only approve. (Reply to this post to receive a number of your own, yada yada, no purchase necessary, void where prohibited, batteries not included.)

1. Aside from the period immediately following my birth, I have never been hospitalized for any reason. In-hospital procedures and ER visits, yes; being admitted for even one night, no. (Announcing this makes me nervous. I'm fearing a Dorian Gray situation where I use up all my karma and get hit with nine diseases at once, just before a Chevy Impala falls on me.)


2. When I entered college, my life plan was getting an acting degree. When I left college, my life plan was opening a coffeehouse. I have the temperament for neither.


3. I have walked out of exactly two movies in my adult life: Fluke (too ridiculous) and Marie Antoinette (too boring).


4. I didn't start to drive on the interstate until well into my twenties. I had a morbid fear of merging.


5. I learned guitar using my mom's Goya classical. My first folk guitar, the one I used for over 20 years, was also a Goya, a Christmas/birthday/wedding/graduation gift from my mom. It's now in the hands of my daughter, who's been begging to learn to play. (I taught her E and Em last weekend, then wrote down the chords for "Shake It Off.")


6. I have in my possession an orange jelly bean that had been allegedly stepped on by one of the Beatles during a concert in 1964. Also from my mom, who got it from her brother for Christmas that year. She cried.


7. My three notable scars on my hands and arms are from (in reverse chronological order) a hot olive oil splatter, a freaked-out cat, and a failed attempt at knife juggling.


8. I once turned down a glassblower's offer to be his apprentice. It's one of my great regrets.


9. I am so obsessed with my morning sesame bagel with cream cheese that the office cafeteria lately has sometimes given me free food to apologize when she's out of stock.


10. My first real job was as Bingo the Birthday Clown at the Ground Round in Matteson, IL. My trainer was a Janis Joplin clone whose favorite phrase was "groovy-cool" (which I still say), and who called me at home one night drunk off her ass to tell me my horoscope and find out what I "really thought of her." (Older women acting mildly predatory around me was a theme when I was a teen, none of which I noticed until I was much older, looking back and going, "...hey, wait a minute!" When I was 17, I once watched Jeopardy from a hot tub with a married woman in her 30's, completely oblivious to the fact that she was hitting on me even when she insisted on leaning forward dramatically in her bathing suit to talk to me.)


11. All four of my grandparents were still alive as of my late 20's. I still don't know how to process death.


12. I often fantasize about winning a lottery or sweepstakes whose prize is a credit card that would never max out, but could only be used to buy food, either in stores or restaurants. I would live such a wondrous life.


13. Given what a constant it's been in my life since I was old enough to remember, I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure out that I want to be a musician.


14. I think I may be done with crossword construction. I'm tired of whacking my head against that particular wall.


15. A few of the songs I've written over the last few months have been among the best I've ever done. I can't wait until they see the light of day.

I just realized that yesterday was my 12-year LJ-iversary. (!!!) Ye gods, I can't think of anything else I've done for 12 years with relative consistency, give or take an apathy year or so. I've blather-wanked here on many occasions about how LJ has Changed My Life, so I'll spare you all this go-around, but I'm trying to recall who my first LJ friends were (without hitting the comment sections of the early ones, which would be cheating) and my brain is cramping. I know no-longer-here Odhierre was the very first because he was my one real-life chum who was already on here, and I remember kimberly_a and spoothbrush were fairly early on as well, but let me open the question up: When did we meet, assuming we met here in Bloggyland? And while we're at it, how did your LJ stint begin?

Meanwhile, I've got a three-day weekend burning a hole in my pocket. Gonna finish up with work and hit the pavement, if'n you don't mind. Ciao.

Hey.

If you're reading this, respond.

Replies are screened, unless you want them unscreened. Tell me what's on your mind.

Some answers to some questions asked by y'all:

What musicial instrument do you not play, that you wish you did?
Frankly, all of them, but if I had to narrow it down I'd pick violin, unless I'm in an unusually romantic mood that week and favoring cello.

Describe the most perfect outfit you could have, and where you'd wear it, and what you'd do there.
I actually had to skip this one and come back, but I hardly ever think in these terms (which, come to think, is likely why you're asking, since you know me all too well). As much as I'd like my manner of dress to improve, I simply don't have the head for it. The Rabbit is really the only outfit I've ever put any extensive thought into, and it's evolving even as we speak—cluegirl has picked out some gorgeous material for an 18th Century style waistcoat, which I'll be combining with the requisite britches, riding boots, kid gloves, the black brocade Shrine coat, and of course the mask—so I guess that's as close of an answer as I've got. The nature of the outfit, though, narrows the "where" portion down to cons, mostly, which is why I'm hesitant to name it here. Then again, formalwear in general seems to suit me. Hmm. Let me get back to you on this, okay?

Did you earn a reward yet?
Yes. Totally. Looking forward to it. *slow smile*

Album progress report!? XD
Coming along nicely, thanks! Today I replaced the lost vocal part on the one track, laid down rhythm and lead guitar on another, and added a little lead guitar garnish on a third. Official box score: five done, five more than half done, and I'm feeling confident enough that I'm even considering tossing in another song or two. Rah, me!

Worst kiss you've ever had. (Unless this winds up being a filter story.)
No filter necessary. It was with a girlfriend years and years ago, who while we were kissing one day tucked her tongue under my bottom lip. No one had done that to me before, and it was interesting, so I reacted with an "Oh!" as in "That was different!" Unfortunately, she read it as, "That's the hottest thing ever!" and proceeded to make that maneuver the only thing during kissing, ever. My gums haven't received that much direct attention from some dentists.

Still gonna get that tattoo?
Probably? I've gone a bit waffly on the matter, but I'm still intending on getting it done eventually, as soon as this "no job" thing clears up.

Got any more? I'm still taking them at this poll here, if you're so inclined.

What gives your life its deepest meaning? Creation. Connection. Transcendence. That's the short answer; I'm still filling in the details.

So--When's the album coming out?!! Actually, I'm glad you asked! My stumbling block until recently has been a lack of a decent microphone (I've been using the lousy built-in thing on my MacBook up to now), but I recently discovered that my kids have a Rock Band mic for their XBox, which is USB compatible, and which they were willing to lend to me. Between that and my new guitar strings, I'm finally ready to roll on recording again. I have six songs done (a couple of which I might cut new vocal tracks for) and four-maybe-five to record from scratch, of which three will be relatively simple to do, and then The Elmsley Count is frickin' done, man. Watch this space.

Do you know what your favorite colour is yet? Did we not decide on purple? Or was purple rejected as being too ostentatious? Bah, I don't remember. Purple, unless purple is a problem. Either way, this is going to be the only real capital-C Colour in the whole outfit, if I'm visualizing this correctly, so it can pretty much go in any direction. (Wow. How's that for decisive?)

Are you happy? A couple of months ago, I was going through a rough bit of stress-times, wherein a bunch of unrelated and quasi-related things were bearing down on me, which happens from time to time. But for the first time in a very long while, I ran down the list of what was going wrong in my world, and added to the end, "…but life is still good." Am I happy? Yes. Yes, I am. And I can't begin to tell you how good it feels to say that.

Why didn't you buy the Adipose plush toy from me? I didn't know you had 'em! Argh! I'm sorry!

How's your stripper pirate rock star career going? *grumble* *gripe*

Do you have pets? I do now! When rafaela moved into her new apartment, I inherited her two cats, Sunny and Lucy, whom felisdemens promptly renamed "Fatback" and "Pantywaist." They fail to get along with each other, or with the existing household cat Hamlet, whose main attitude towards them is, "What'd I do?"

It's all worth it, right? All this hard work I do to make my world a little better? Totally worth it. Everything's going to come out amazing. Just you wait. *hugs*

Where did your icon and username come from? "Slipjig" as a moniker dates back to my very first AOL account 16 or 17 years ago. A slip jig is a traditional Irish dance form in 9/8 time; I chose it because I had a thing for Irish folk and folk-rock, and the odd time signature suited me. (Much later, I learned that slip jigs are traditionally only done by women. C'est la vie.) The icon is from the Tacuinum Sanitatis, a medieval medical manual, and is an illustration from the page on "acorns." I mainly chose it because I liked the little beasty behind the tree.

Do you have any time this summer? I'm lonely. Hi! I do have some, at least as long as the unemployment holds out. Unfortunately, me being in the Boston area means you're no longer a short hop away, so simply hopping in the car is no longer an option. Let us ponder this.

What's an entry that you're especially, deeply proud of? Since I was recently looking at some very very very old posts as I reported yesterday, I'll dust off a bit of the days when Girl-Child and Boy-Child were 5 and 2 respectively, and getting holiday portraits done was an adventure. Not my greatest post ever, but I find myself unduly amused.

I'm still gathering questions at this post, if you are thusly inclined.