Tina Rowley

writer + (performer) + [space left blank for surprises]

Welcome to the internet home of Tina Rowley. Here you'll find my blog, links to my other published writing, and whatever ends up climbing into the space I left blank for surprises.

 

the realization of a long-held dream

I have been tagged for a meme. FINALLY.



You don't know, you don't know how I've longed for this. Quietly in my heart I have ached for somebody to demand to know five things I ate for dinner last month. The invisible subtext of all comments I've ever left on anyone's posts, the subtext of every post I have written has been

TAG ME FOR A MEME.

Taaaag meeeee. Meme.

I could tell you so many things about myself, everyone. There are a hundred things about me. There are two hundred things. Oh my god, ask me. Just ask.

And now that Wacky Mommy has looked into my soul and found this need - thank you, Wacky Mommy - I find myself...well, it's like this meme is like Tawny Kitaen or Kelly LeBrock, say, and I'm like Anthony Michael Hall (and this analogy has to happen in 1985 because I don't know who today's people for this would be) and the meme has walked by in a spandex minidress and I've been like RRrrOWrrrr! Hey baby! How 'bout it! all cat-calling her, and now she's walked up to me all You wouldn't know what to do with me if you had me and I'm like GULP. She's RIGHT.

Ten Things that My Family or Friends Don't Know About Me:

1. ...Um...Miss LeBrock? I (squeak) think you're really pretty...
2. .......(sweating)......
3. ...Um...heh heh!
4. ......
5. ....We're having a dance on Friday if....
6. ......
7. ......
(boobs and butt)....(boobs)...(butt)....um....
8. ....This is my friend, Danny...
9. ...
(I feel something weird that I don't understand.)...
10. ....
(I want Kelly LeBrock to walk away.).... :(

Okay, now I'll really try to make this dream come true:

(Note: The huge font of what follows is not my fault! It wouldn't not do it! I tried and tried to avert this disaster. My first meme and it's all big and ungainly. Son of a bitch.)


1. I said I voted in the 1988 presidential elections, but I didn't. Registering to vote and figuring out where to go...it was too much for me. Dukakis, I am sorry. I am a faker.
2. When I went to Mexico for spring break during my junior year of college, a boy became infatuated with me whose name was Nacho. He was very nice but I was like...your name is Nacho.
3. When I can't convince Finn to take a nap, I feel like competent parents everywhere are laughing at me, and I long for the days when he needs pep talks instead of naps.
4. I have long stated that bell peppers don't agree with me. And while that may have been true at one point, I think now it's just more that I'm a pussy about them. And now it is a very small project of mine to re-introduce the bell pepper into my diet. Take it one day at a time. No promises.
5. There's a freckle on my left foot that I believe renders it unbearably hot. That foot is smokin'. Like a French actress. Like a sex kitten. I have a crush on it.
6. Nobody ever needs to buy me anything with a crew neck, because I ain't gonna wear it.
7. If I forget to do something for long enough that embarrassment sets in, I will never do it. Never for so long. Never for a very long time. Making mountains out of what once could have been crumbs.
8. I am so proud to be in the same family with my in-laws. I love their vibe. Funny and warm and unpretentious and dashing! Clever and kind! Hearts all exactly in the right place. Priorities perfect. LOVE THEM.
9. Last night I was more excited to watch The Amazing Race than I was to watch The Sopranos. And yet my self-esteem somehow remains intact.
10. Sometimes when I listen to music, I imagine myself doing the world's most awesome lip-synch back at my old college in the amphitheatre. I bring today's hits back to my college days and blow them all away with OutKast numbers and whatnot.

All right. Now I'm the tagger. Now I tag it. I tag...whom do I tag...I tag La Ketch. I tag Certainlia. I tag Bladio Blogio. I tag Complain-O-Peeps. I tag Virtual Hyperbole. And I tag Eve. And you, too. All of yous. And I ask you to tell us 3 fantasies about yourself if you were a total, unbelievable success. Like the hero of all future reunions.

Oh, man. Dear Diary. You were right! It finally happened!