It's about time we got to know one another as people

So I'm reviving a meme that all the cool kids were doing a couple of years ago, with an interview theme.

Here's looking at the rules, sweetheart:

Do YOU want to interview or be interviewed?

Interview rules:
1. Leave me one to five questions in the comments to this post, and say whether or not you want me to "interview" you.

2. I will update [this] blog with a post containing the answers to your question or questions, and asking my question(s) of you, if desired.

3. You will update [this] blog with a post containing the answers to my question(s).

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview
someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them one to five questions.

You do not have to answer five questions from each of the dozen or so of us here. That would get rather monotonous. But you must answer at least the first two or three sets of questions that you get.


  1. I'd like profile information: photo's, fingerprints, cup size, emotional age, ideal gender. Can you read? Do you read? What book are you currently reading and where do you like to read it? Are you shy? Hiding from the authorities? Things like that.

  2. Okay, I'll bite.
    Do you lucid dream? Are any dreams reoccurring? Do animals appear in them and what are they?
    Also, who are your parents and are you an only child, adopted, etc?
    Count me in for an interview.

  3. Yes, I do lucid dream and some of my dreams are recurring or used to be. I haven't much of a memory of animals in my dreams, but I have to believe they have. They have figured prominently in my psychotic hallucinations.

    I was an only child and terribly abused until I moved out at seventeen. Still when my mother became unable to care for herself because she had vascular dementia, I took care of her. The last lucid thing she said to me was to look deeply and meaningfully into my eyes, and said, "I never love ANYONE! Do you understand me?" Yes, I did.

    Lady Fizzlebottom, I liked your questions so much, would you answer them for me?

  4. I'm afraid I'll have to pass because as much as I don't mind answering question, I can't think of any good ones to ask and that wouldn't be fair such as I learned in kindergarten.

  5. I'm sorry, but those rules are hurting my head this morning - confused, yes I am.

    To answer Utah Savage(whose spelling is impeccable, thank you), I used to lucid dream, but that disappeared after I admitted myself into a psych ward for two weeks, back in 2005. They doctors drugged me pretty well to get through that time, and I haven't really been the same since.
    The lucid dream I remember best is this:
    I am with my family, and we are unloading vehicles outside a cabin in the woods. I walk off on my own on a dirt trail winding through the Ponderosa pines, that are covered in neon green lichen, and find it leads up to the narrow dirt road we came in on.
    Up ahead, and to my right, there is a giant white tiger with black stripes(what I felt when I saw this creature, was that it was an avenging angel of sorts - something unearthly and magical); in my mind, I tell myself that this animal will not harm me if I just keep my pace steady and show no fear; she remains sitting on her belly, legs outstretched like a sphinx.
    Up ahead, and on my left, is an empty wooden bench along the side of the road. I sit down to rest and hear an aggressive rustling in shrubs just below and behind me. A large black bear comes charging up at me and quickly, I jump up and head back in the direction I came. That's when I realize that I'm in total control of the dream and I run towards the tiger, leading the bear straight to her. At the last second, I veer away knowing the bear, who is focused on me, doesn't notice the tiger, whose intent is entirely on him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the tiger stand on it's hind legs before they are out of view.
    I keep running, faster and faster, back through the winding trail, where along the path a mountain lion cowers on my left, a fox observes me from the right, and above me, a massive Bald Eagle soars overhead.
    I keep running until I get back to the cabin where it seems no time has passed and they are still unloading bags of groceries and pillows.
    Exhilerated, I breathlessly try to tell them how I escaped my certain death, but no one is interested and they ignore what I'm saying, asking me if I'm going to help them, or what.

    Bears come back occasionally, but I am always stronger than them. Other dreams have had me swimming with Humpback and Sperm whales and charming tropical birds from the treetops.

    As for my parents, I am the youngest of 3 and for the first year of my life, was treated like a bastard by(who I believe is)my biological father. I didn't find this out until I was 15(mom had strayed and dad didn't believe that I was his). My mother had constructed an elaborate story to protect me from the truth; she said that when I was born, my father took one look at me and returned home, contrite and full of love for me and his family. She also forgot to mention that during that year he was away, he was engaged to marry his 2nd cousin. How I wish I was kidding, really I do. I used to care if he loved me, but now I forget that he exists most of the time. He and I haven't seen each other in close to 5 years and I keep his number in my phone, so I don't pick it up, just in case he tries to call(and he does).
    My mother, like my father, was poorly educated and she's worked as a caregiver for the most part. For a while, she worked in the old fruit packing sheds in a small town we lived in; paid by the box, her arms and fingers moved in a blur, her fingers at the end of the day stained blue from the packing paper. If she had been raised Catholic instead of Southern Baptist, I might have ended up a nun under her counsel. But I love her - she's real, right out of a Flannery O'Conner novel and I don't fight for her love because it's always there, even when we don't agree on things.

    My, that was long-winded - how about someone else takes a turn here. Jazzolog?