Friday! Feast with me.

Appetizer
From which country(s) are some (or all) of your ancestors?

My mother's family come from a place called Stornoway (or Steornabhagh)which is on the Isle of Lewis (or Eilean Leodhais) in (I think) the Outer Hebrides. Which, basically, is really far up North. Norther than, like, Watford. My father's family is in part Irish and in part Welsh, so I am like a big Celtic mish mash. Although, I would argue with some futility, not so much with the 'big'.

This Celtic blood sloshing around my veins would explain the dark haired, fair skinned and blue eyed combination my sisters and I have going on. Luckily, however, in the interests of avoiding any Corrs-like scenarios Sophie took one for the team and went blonde a few years ago, and very lovely it looks too. I am the fairest-skinned of the three, with the freckles ("Sun-kisses, darling! You're the LUCKY one! Kissed by the sun! Well I think they're gorgeous!" - quote, My Mum, many a time throughout my pale, freckled-in-the-face-of-bronzed-friends childhood) coming out in force in the summer. I quite like my freckles now, particularly the one on the bridge of my nose that is, and I am not exaggerating, a perfect triangle. I am convinced that this means that I am a witch. When my powers come into force I am getting straight on a plane to San Francisco to claim my rightful place as a comic cameo part in Charmed. Who gets to snog Alyssa Milano every episode.

I fear I have meandered from the question somewhat.

Soup
How would you describe your sneeze?

Dramatic. Attention seeking. Followed by a demand that somebody bless me. Non-blessed sneezes are dangerous. That's how plagues start.

Salad
What is the last thing you cleaned?

Apart from myself? I want to be able to recall, I really do. I want to be able to say "oh, let me see now, I think it was the bathroom, yesterday" or "hmm, was the oven this morning or last night?". I cannot, however, do this. I did a load of washing the other day.

I wish I was a domestic goddess, but I suspect that I am not.

Main Course
Who made the strongest first impression on you?

This is a difficult question. I have been trying to think, and I can't remember one specific person who made a stronger first impression than anyone else. I think that if someone makes a very strong impression on me it's because I don't like them, which is much less common than meeting someone and liking them. I've met people before and instantly distrusted them, but this is a rare occurence.

A couple of people I have met recently have made a very strong impression on me, and actually there is particularly one person who has impressed me a lot. Not necessarily from a first impression, more like a gradual and cumulative series of impressions that have built up to create one that is, well, impressive.

Convoluted answer, there. Sorry.

Dessert
Name one thing you want to accomplish in your lifetime.

Bloody hell. This feast is riddled with tricky questions.

There are a million things I want to accomplish. I'm not sure yet exactly what they all are but I know there are a lot of them and I know that I should really get cracking.

I suppose what I want most of all is to accomplish success, whatever that ends up meaning for me. I want to sing (oh, have I mentioned that?) and sing and sing and I cannot express enough how much I want to sing. I want it so much that I will not take anything less, anything that masquerades as singing but that is actually an infinite distance away from it (that is in reference to a particular occasion that I can only talk about in obscure terms here for fear of hurting someone).

I want to be happy and feel fulfilled, comfortable in my own skin and satisfied that I'm doing what I feel I should be doing.

Everyone wants that, right?

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I have been thinking ferociously about this website thing, or, as my friend Chris put it, The Merger. I think that it will change something about my writing (oh, the self-importance of a blogger! Ha!). I do feel like I need to change, though, because all of a sudden I somehow know what next steps I need to take. I'm not sure I could write a post that didn't somehow mention my singing, because I think about it for the majority of everyday. It takes up a major part of my consciousness and I think will, as a result, seep out in some way regardless of whether I'm trying to write about the six glasses of white wine I sunk last night or how I'm being stalked by a delivery man*.

I think to merge them will be, as Hen put it in the comments section of the last post, pretty damned tricky. Not impossible, though, and I think the move away from writing here would be exciting. Also I think that writing on a site that has all my singing stuff on it as well would be a truer reflection of what goes on in my head day in day out. I will still be writing for myself, and if people don't like it they don't have to read it.

I am really, really on it. I have a good feeling about this.

FINALLY: My friend Chris has a Very Important Interview this afternoon, as he is a real journalist and has a meeting with the editor of a Very Very Important Newspaper. Everyone wish him luck, please, although he really doesn't need it. Polish your shoes, Chris. Go forth. You'll be brilliant.

*Both of these things are true. The delivery man had been hounding me non-stop EVEN AFTER I SAID NO (WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?). I said no, no and no again. Hound hound hound, was the response. I have never understood the 'persistence to the point of desperation' form of wooing someone. Yesterday I told him, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off. I told him politely, but very, very firmly. "When" I said, slowly, and looking at him levelly, "someone says 'no', do you know what that means? Do you? Well, I'll tell you. It means 'no'. So please stop calling me." He tried to speak. "No." I interrupted him. "I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to stop. It's getting to the point of being weird, and I don't like it. Please go away."
He hasn't been in touch since. Oh, the victory. I was initially going to hide and get someone else to tell him off, but then I thought hang on a minute. I can fight my own bloody battles, and win them. So I sat in wait for him to deliver a package, and then gave him a bollocking he won't forget in a while. I am, perhaps disproportionately, proud of myself.