Muscato revealed all kinds of dirt over at Café Muscato and then solicited volunteers to likewise spill. Of course I did, immediately.
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
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 five questions. Muscato asks:
1. Now that you’ve had a few months to think about it, do you feel that marriage has changed your relationship to the fetching R Man?
I wish I could say it has, since I think positive testimony would help build the case for striking down Prop 8 and allow gay people to marry. You know “R. and P. of San Francisco say their marriage has transformed their previously meaningless existence into a joyous one with a soundtrack by Martha and the Vandellas.” But, in fact, we’d already been together so long, the marriage thing hasn’t really affected us profoundly. I still refer to him as my partner or boyfriend (“husband.” Ick.) I still love him madly, he still puts up with me. Same old, same old.
That said, I think marriage is a right important enough to fight for, one without which we remain second class citizens. I don’t want to be domestically partnered and hope that some obscure law that I had never heard of and which only applies to married people will wind up biting me in the ass.2. We share a passion for the heavenly Miss Barbara Pym and for the goings-on in those deceptively quiet havens of intrigue, Riseholme and Tilling. Describe a situation in your life that comes closest to approximating a situation in one of the Pym or Lucia novels. Extra credit if you do both!
My job so very frequently consists of attending boring meetings. I use Mildred from Pym’s Excellent Women as my role model, speaking in quiet, terribly well-bred tones and hiding my opinions about the douchebag colleagues I’m being force to deal with. I’m not making this up, I really do think “What Would Mildred Do?” and then use that as my guide, and I do that often.
I’m simply not devious enough to be either Lucia or Mapp. Alas. Although I would kill for Mallards House.
3. I’m extremely lucky, in that the BF, Mr. Muscato, and the BFF, Miss Rheba, adore each other (to the point that I sometimes feel a third wheel). Tell us more about how R Man and Diane von Austinberg get along. What’s the dish? Does he have a BFF of his own?
Wait, I thought this was supposed to be about ME. Oh all right, R Man and Diane: I, too, am terribly lucky, they like each other very much, but then everyone likes Diane, it’s so unfair. She’s smart and charming and sweet, a great cook, and she thinks I’m a genius. It’s like she’s cheating. The two of them can hang together quietly, not bothering me, while I’m doing important stuff like, you know, stuff. They would happily hang together even more except I monopolize Diane’s time while she’s visiting us.R Man BFs would be his boss, the terribly stylish Anne, and sweet, sweet Urban Street Pirate. I adore both of them, which is a good thing, cause Urban Street Pirate is going to be a really successful artiste and Anne could beat me up and then I would cry.4. What are your best and worst ever finds while thrifting?
Considering how often I’ve bitterly emphasized that I never have any luck thrifting without Diane’s guiding light, it’s amazing that my greatest success in the world of other people’s crap was a score without her, all on my very own. A pair of fabulous mid-century slipper chairs, very sleek and low with ebony trim and ivory embroidered upholstery, shredded by some previous bad cat. $28 per chair at the Salvation Army. Score!My worst? There are so very many, purchases made in the heat of the junk moment and repented at leisure. Currently, the title is probably held by a brown brocade sport coat with a sun faded stripe down one arm that R Man refuses to allow me to wear in public. 5. You live in a place widely deemed by its denizens the greatest (most beautiful, most cultured, most diverse, etc., etc.) city in the world. What drives you batshit crazy about San Francisco?
Having escaped the swampy, white-trashy hell hole of my youth, I’m constantly thrilled to be here. That said, what is with the Mexican food here? A city originally founded by the Spanish and then owned by Mexico and still inhabited by a huge population of Mexican and Central American emigrants or their descendents and the food is consistently glop. There isn’t a Mexican restaurant in Texas that couldn’t kick all of their butts and then ask if you want extra salsa with that. I’m not bitter. OF COURSE NOT, but I am planning on spending my birthday in Austin with Diane and hitting La Fonda San Miguel where I will eat handmade tortillas and get all teary-eyed.