Thursday, February 19, 2009
We are currently working on our online profile for our adoption, and as part of that, we have to fill out a rather run-of-the-mill questionnaire meant to help our prospective birth mother "get to know" us. In case you were wondering, it's really hard to sum yourself up in a few lines in response to the question "A smell that makes me pause is." Patrick said that the wafting aroma of honeysuckle transports him, à la Ratatouille, to the memory-drenched pavement of his Northern California mission where, presumably, the gentle scent of honeysuckle was one of the highlights of interminable days otherwise monopolized by a film loop of bike riding and door knocking. I, regrettably, have not settled on a smell that makes me pause; sadly, the only olfactory impressions I can bring to mind are, to put it gently, less appropriate for that particular forum.
I tend to be somewhat overly concerned about exercises like this one. I want to say just the right thing; I've always liked having the correct answer, giving my [teacher/coach/friend/husband] a reason to think I'm smart and on top of things. I don't even really like to do Facebook quizzes or status updates because the pressure to be hip and sparkling is just a little too much for me.
Of course, this particular aperçu also has the added pressure of trying to be charming and appealing while simultaneously making me seem like a good-time disciplinarian who will provide your child with the idyllic existence that you [birth mother], for whatever reason, don't think you can. And do you [blog reader] have any idea how difficult it is to be airily witty next to Patrick? Seriously, folks...do you? I know, I know...I'm the intelligent one, he's the funny one. But everyone likes the class clown more than the nerd.
The other, shall we say, hindrance I've run in to is that my tastes in entertainment tend toward the somewhat embarrassing or unmentionable. No, I don't mean porn or anything, but my favorite book is a novel called The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood. It is a brilliant, stunningly crafted book (if I could write any book, this would undoubtedly be it) and has won a gaggle of awards. It is not a favorite book to be embarrassed of. But really -- should you ever put the word "assassin" on a page encouraging a birth mother to entrust their unborn child to you? So do I make up a favorite book? Go for one of my lesser favorites? Tell me truly, dear readers...do I just choke back the rising bile and put down Twilight?
And what about Buffy the Vampire Slayer? If you know me even a little, you know that once, long ago, Amberly got me hooked on this little gem, and it has been my favorite television program ever since. I usually rewatch the entire series (which I have on DVD) every other year or so. Is that too much to ask of a birth mother? On a side note, if I love Buffy so much, do I really have any right to dislike Twilight so?* I suppose I could just write down what show I'm watching right now, but that's Big Love, and, somehow, I don't think that will go over too well with the particular crowd to whom I am pitching myself.
Certainly you can understand my conundrum. Please, dear readers, enlighten me. If your house was burning down and you could only rescue three things, what would they be? I'm afraid I might rescue my dog, my photos, and my Buffy DVDs.
*If you said no, then I think you need to rewatch Buffy. And then reread Twilight. One of these cultural artifacts is clever, joyous, and "zeitgeisty." One of them is corpulent, bombastic, and, weirdly, also "zeitgeisty." Just because they both have vampires does not mean they are playing ball in even the same state, let alone the same field.
**Also, is anyone out there watching True Blood? Should I? I do like vampires, after all.
***Okay, last note, I promise. Did anyone catch the premiere of Dollhouse? I'm feeling a little conflicted. In one column, it's Joss, and I would do just about anything to get inside another Whedonverse. In the other, it's Faith being different people every week. It just feels wrong. She's a slayer. She'll always be a slayer. I eagerly await your opinions (I'm looking your way, Josh).