Since I have some time to kill before rushing out the door to work I am comfortably seated at my kitchen table with my coffee, morning vitamins, and my laptop. Of course, my brain is already whooshing around in my head, but I promised to answer more of the questions so this isn’t so much an exercise in writing as it is wondering if I can get my brain to stop rattling around in my head and come up with some decent answers. Actually, I’m grateful for all those questions because the last thing I want to do is write obsessively about leaving for New York this weekend and attend that one conference that I shall not name. But I’ll probably mention it sometime in the near future. OH! And I’m only going to mention that today I get to go to my local Gap store and try on clothes with a stylist and let them outfit me so I can wear new clothes to the conference which has no name.

By way of explanation, I should say that since time appears to limit my activities in blogging I am totally taking the easy way out by answering more questions. But, I will offer you this. Two things, actually. First, the wonderful Danielle of Knotty Yarn who I got to finally meet last year in Chicago at a nameless conference wrote the most succinct, well-reasoned piece of writing on feminism that I have probably ever read. I urge you to read it if you haven’t already. She not only lists factually based arguments in her case as a feminist, she wrote this line here that completely summed up my thoughts on that stupid article last weekend by MoDo.

I am a feminist because Maureen Dowd feels such an innate sense of entitlement that she can tell black people how to be black. In 2010. In public. Out loud.

If I said HELL, YES once while reading it, I said it a hundred more times.

And then there’s this.

Yummy. I love to eat Black babies. NOM NOM NOM. They are so delicious and nutritious and ooof! I’m suddenly and mysteriously ill and can’t make it to a Tea Party convention in St. Louis this weekend. WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY INTESTINAL TRACT?

My sister, Tracy, came to visit last weekend with my other sister, Erin, and she showed me this picture (which I have somehow missed as a regular Gawker reader!) of Michele Bachmann, Minister of Crazy aka Sarah Palin, Jr. I love how Gawker uses this photo whenever they mention her without really explaining why they’re using it again. But I suppose they don’t have to. Captions wouldn’t do it justice.

Onto the questions! No baby eating in this section!

Miss-Britt asked this question:

Question: You have the house to yourself for the weekend. No one is going to be sharing your bed at night or possibly waking you up in the morning.

What do you wear to bed?

Answer: Well, aren’t we risque this early in the morning, Britt? Sheesh. I suppose, since no one will see me, I will wear a scuba mask and some goggles paired with an army jacket and some stilettos. That way I wouldn’t have to explain it to anyone. Hopefully, I’ll take a bottle of wine to bed with me, too, because then I could have a wee sip in the morning when I wake.

Scout, who openly complained to me that she was mad her question wasn’t chosen (see, now sometimes whining gets you places) asked this:

Question: Do you think that kissing ass is important in the game of life?

Answer: Man, do I want to answer with a smart aleck reply to this! But I won’t. So I will say this – No way will I do this. No. Not at all. There is no rewarding factor that comes from it and I have gotten this far without trying to slobber my lips all over someone else’s patootie. Stand up for what you believe and take whatever consequences come with it. That’s not to say I don’t feel like I haven’t had to work harder than my male counterparts (see Feminism post above) just to be on an even playing field, but I’m also working in a female-dominated profession even those women are more likely to be teachers and not principals or professors and writers-in-residence for educational associations and such. Here’s a little story for you: when I worked at a private school many years ago I had to take a 6-week medical leave for surgery (softball-sized tumor in my ovary) and when I returned I had all my novels ordered for me for the following school year. I guess they had trouble with some of the titles I had chosen previously, but they let me have total control over this. I mean, as the Reading teacher, I was the expert, right? They didn’t want me using J.R.R. Tolkein (what?) and weren’t sure of The Watsons Go to Birmingham, 1963 or The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman or even Avi’s book Nothing But the Truth. Uh. Ok, well, when I returned and confronted the leader (who, by the way, was not a person who should have the title of “principal” if you don’t have the proper credentials – Type 75, anyone? No. But still. This was the person in charge.) we got into a heated discussion of politics and book banning and censorship. So, I quit. I refused to kiss anything in order to keep that job. This worked out nicely for me because then I went back to school AND GOT MY TYPE 75 properly. And now I’m here. So, no booty smooching for me.

Meg Evans, one of the world’s most renowned knitters had this to say:

Question: Open presents Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?

Answer: Did you watch Mad Men this week, Meg? It was all Christmasy and depressing last week. I thought that’s why you asked about Christmas except you asked the question before it aired. Our family growing up got to open one present on Christmas Eve after midnight mass and then the rest of them Christmas morning. To incorporate that into my adult life as a parent, all the kids get pajamas for Christmas Eve so when I take pictures in the morning they are wearing something new. They never caught onto this as kids as I would say, “Open this one. I think THIS one would be a good present to open for Christmas Eve.” Silly kids. Tricks are for rabbits. (Wait. How did I bring up Easter just now?)

Suniverse stumped me. For days I’ve been wondering which of my senses I would choose to live without. She asked:

Question:  If you had to live without a sense, which would it be?

Also, if you had to eat either someone else’s booger or a cockroach, which would it be?

Answer: I like music, so I have to keep my hearing. I love food, so taste is also out. Touch is rather nice, so not that. Too many pretty things to look at, so I would like to keep my vision. I don’t know! This is hard. I guess if I had to live without one maybe I could deal with taste because then I could stop eating so much. This would work out for eating the booger, by the way, because if I had to do it, that’s what I would choose. As a kid I ate them anyway. Just that once, though. On a dare. Wow, both a difficult and disgusting question.

Marie, who has the most precious ducks on her blog today wondered:

Question: What are you more afraid of than anything?

Answer: I think what scares me is not getting enough time in life to do things. Mortality isn’t my favorite topic in the morning hours, but that has to be it. What if I don’t live long enough to see my children be successful at things or enjoy my grandchildren? SOMEDAY NOT NOW I AM NOT READY I DON’T CARE THAT I HAVE FOUR KIDS OLD ENOUGH TO PROCREATE. Those are the fears that keep me awake at times. And not seeing justice done for whatever reason. I have my own thoughts about that for me personally, but it doesn’t have to do with dying too soon, it’s just that I always hope I can experience justice and fairness.

I feel like this is one of those posts, after re-reading it just now, that will probably have the best comments ever. Have at it.