I’ve had these questions sitting in my inbox from roro for a few weeks now. I’m not going to say exactly how many weeks because it’s embarrassing. I expect there’s therapy available for people like me who are chronic email-not-reply-to-people (and a better name as well) but till I avail myself of that help… You’re all screwed. Sorry.
Anyway, the deal was, still is in fact, that I answer truthfully any five questions that roro saw fit to throw at me. In return, I get to ask five questions of anyone who steps up to the plate in the comments and volunteers for the
torture fun. They in turn get to ask five questions of their volunteers and… You get the picture.
So here are the questions that arrived and here, *gulp* are my answers. All of which are hand-on-heart, swear-on-the-life-of-my-imaginary-pet-guinea-pig, abso-positively true. Ish.
1. Who would you most like to catch you dancing in your underwear?
Wow. Straight in with the big ones. You have to keep in mind here, the sight of me in my underwear is one that really should be reserved only for my worst enemies. As for me dancing in my underwear… Heaven help us, some things just don’t bear thinking about! OK. Sorry. I should be being serious about this, shouldn’t I?
Underwear. Me. Dancing.
Er, if I could get over the embarrassment, I’d opt for the RLO. Reasoning? Well, he only sees me as the slightly kooky admin at work who refuses to do his filing. If ever a sight was going to get him to see (and hopefully adore) the real totally kooky me, it would be me dancing in my underwear.
Oh dear god please say that never, EVER happens. At least not before a first date.
2. What’s your favourite Sunday dinner (aside, of course, from the Roast)?
My Mum’s beef and macaroni pie, with her blackcurrant cheesecake for afters. Mmmmmmmmmmm. Or my Dad’s griddled salmon with roast peppers. Or… To be true, I don’t eat Sunday dinner much. I’m not that much of a foodie. Lately, my absolute favourite meal has been a couple of hot buttered muffins. Dear god, I don’t know what Waitrose put in their English Muffins, but they are as addictive as crack. *drool*
3. You’re single and on the prowl. Someone comes over to you who you might not usually notice or be attracted to. They whisper a magical phrase to you and you SWOON. What did they say?
I’ve been thinking about this a LOT and I don’t think there is a single magical phrase guaranteed to get me swooning. To be highly unoriginal, a compliment is always good. Or you going try going the really corny route – go so unbelievably corny that I’m just forced to laugh and re-evaulate you. For me though, I’m thinking it’s more HOW they say it than WHAT they say. With some accents you’d have me at ‘hello’. And no I’m not saying which accents. A girl has to have some secrets.
4. What was (or will be) your proudest moment?
Graduating from Liverpool.
There were times, many many times, I didn’t think I would make it. I came this close to not finishing. So to walk across that stage, shake the Dean’s hand, to not fall over on the steps (which was a big thing for me!), and to sit back in that chair knowing I’d done it – and to get a First as well? No moment in my life has made me feel prouder to be me. There might be one or two in the future that could beat it but… We’re talking the biggies here: kids (medical miracles permitting), finding that significant other, discovering the cure for cancer, going into space. Short of them, I don’t think there could be many moments in my life that could make me feel prouder.
5. What’s the worst book you ever read?
The Da Vinci Code. There are other books that I just never finished, but the Da Vinci Code has the dubious pleasure of the worst book I’ve ever been stupid enough to read from cover to cover. Twice. Yes, twice, because I just couldn’t believe it was really that bad. I mean, it had all that hype about it, right? But truthfully, it is the most god-awful book I have ever had the misfortune to pollute my brain with. And there’s this whole other story involving the Psychotic Stick of Blonde Candyfloss and a missing copy of the book which, upon it’s return I ended up throwing in the bin, but I’ll save that for another time. I don’t think my blood pressure could stand recounting it again.
It was just a bad book.
And those are my five questions answered *breathes a sigh of relief*.
Any volunteers to be interviewed in return? Just say so in the comments.
Oh, and if you were wondering why there was no Roast this week, I was too busy playing on the beach. For some reason frostbitten toes just seemed like more fun 😀