Today's Blathering is for Wordgoddess. Assignment: To write a post in which each paragraph begins with "I...".

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I am not a chocolate snob. I like all kinds of chocolate: dark, white, milk, baking. Especially chocolate with raspberry or other fruit flavours.

I had a pet hermit crab named Martha when I was a teenager. Very dull. It took me two weeks before I finally noticed she was dead.

I'm learning German. I hate dative verbs.

I co-wrote a song about Sex and Chocolate. You can listen to a soundclip here. That's my music partner Jodi singing lead, not me.

I hate it when people behind me kick my chair in a movie theatre.

I have a subclinical detached retina.

I wrote a book.

I have always hated public speaking, to the point where I avoided courses in university that had spoken presentations as part of the curriculum. When I got involved with Inkspot, I started forcing myself to do interviews, workshops, other talks because I was so excited about the project and wanted other people to get excited, too. It was good for me, but I still hate public speaking.

I'm allergic to cats.

I sold my Web site to a U.S. company in June/2000 and moved to Philadelphia for six months as an employee, without my husband. After the Internet craze meltdown, Jeff and I spent a great deal of time at the cottage during our sabbatical and during that time, I realized that my entire experience in the corporate world could be compared in many ways to stacking firewood. Here's my Woodpile Philosophy.

I never went out on a date until university. I didn't go to my high school prom because I didn't want to spend the entire time standing awkwardly on the sidelines while all the other girls got asked for a dance except for me. No, it didn't even cross my mind back then that I didn't have to wait, that -I- could ask guys to dance. I've smartened up since then.

I like food movies.

I used to have recurring dream in which I'm standing in a sunny field of tall grass with my brother. He's smiling at me, and the sun is in his hair. When I wake from the dream, there are tears on my face.

I've been a a cover story.

I wore pink horn-rimmed glasses when I was little. I chose them myself. What was I thinking???

I once got a marriage proposal from a total stranger in e-mail. I declined.

I cry during sappy television commercials.

I like living in Toronto.

I went on a canoe trip in the Nahanni. It remains my all-time favourite trip.

I used to like writing songs with the words/phrases "puke" or "pert breasts" for my music partners to sing because it amused me. Now I don't, because I know they'll make me sing lead.

I taught piano for over twenty years, sometimes part-time, sometimes fulltime. I play piano, flute, penny whistle, Celtic harp, guitar, assorted bangy percussion things...with varying degrees of ability.

I sometimes get frustrated and depressed about my tendinitis, which has lasted a year and a half so far, not being able to type normally for longer than 20 minutes at a time before it starts hurting. Sometimes it's hard to stay cheery and optimistic.

I miss playing my harp.

I like skinnydipping in the lake at the cottage.

I have an autobiographical comic strip.

I like reading in the bathtub.

I tried reading Lord of the Rings a few years ago and actually liked it this time. Enough to start a comic strip and write a song about the experience. I blame Allison.

I'm a morning person.

I still think Captain Kirk was the best Star Trek captain.

I know, I'm a nerd.

I am drawn to people with a strong creative streak, who are passionate about life.

I love backrubs. Foot rubs. Hand rubs. The Sutherland Chan Clinic is my favourite massage place. I usually go about two or three times a year as a special treat, using birthday money from my mom-in-law. I still have 30 minutes left from my last birthday gift and have the gift certificate tacked up on my bulletin board. I like looking at it and knowing that I can use it anytime I want.

I don't like getting backrubs / foot rubs / hand rubs from people I don't know very well unless they're Trained Professionals.

I love the smell of fresh basil, cinnamon and clean babies.

I want to go to Paris someday.

I used to hate it when people told me I look like my mother. Now I'm glad.

I think about dying. Sometimes I think I understand how it could be a peaceful and welcome thing for the very old or very weary, like getting into bed after a long and gruelling day. Most of the time, though, I feel panic at the idea of dying. There's too much to do, to see. People I love. I don't want to miss out on any of it.

I like compartmentalized food.

Yes, that's ice on the lake.

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