Hobbies:  Inertia seems to be what I've been best and most consistent at, though there's no booth for it at the county fair and generally you can't get a cable-TV show out of it. I have tried unsuccessfully to learn knitting, and to collect glass apples. I can knit an endless scarf---  I never learned how to get the yarn off the knitting needles in some sort of responsible way, so I just keep going. As for the glass apples, I think I got to three before I lost interest. Is weighing yourself a hobby? 

Regrets:  A few.  <G> 

Philosophy of Life:  Try very hard to do and say only those things that will not sit in your stomach like potato latkes made by a Catholic. Also: Be a skeptic, but not a cynic. Protecting an open heart is a magnificent art.

Pet Peeves:  Telemarketers and others who prey on the elderly and helpless. The abuse of same, and the abuse of children and animals. Less seriously, people who drive below the speed limit. Drycleaners. Insurance. Misuse, abuse, and misunderstanding of the word "feminist." Register dot com. Grit in my scallops. Jim Baral and Murray Berkowitz.   

Most Embarrassing Moment:  There are so many! But I think it  would have to be the time I almost fell asleep at my desk while eating Cup-A-Soup for lunch. Nothing inherently embarrassing about that--- except that I was so tired I swallowed/inhaled/exhaled and blew a noodle partially out of my nose.  It hung there on my upper lip like a competition trout at weigh-in time, and the office staff referred to me as "Old Noodle Nose" for weeks afterward.

My Idea of Nirvana:  It's a crisp autumn afternoon featuring a butter-yellow sun and a sky that absolutely blue shade of blue. I am on the shore of a mirror-finish, drinkable lake in the woods, sitting cross-legged on a patch of emerald green long-leaf grass sprinkled with crunchy red and gold maple leaves, I am leaning back against the solid trunk of the tree from which they fell. A faint smell of wood smoke is in the air, carried on a gentle breeze.  I stretch out my arm, hold out my hand, and a deer approaches--- fearlessly nuzzling my palm for the oats I brought.  As I reach out, I feel and hear the crinkle of an envelope in my shirt pocket.  The envelope contains a book contract and an advance for a half-million dollars. US. I smile, because the book is already written. I am dimly but happily aware that my gorgeous, brilliant husband is waiting for me back at the house, puttering and packing for our flight to Stockholm where he is picking up a Nobel in economics. Idly, I wonder if my Richard Tyler gown has been delivered. Oh--- and there's world peace. 

Don'ts:  Don't pretend you like me. Don't put stickers on glassware and china that I cannot get off without toxic chemicals. Don't put me in charge of passion. Don't wrinkle your nose and tell me you don't like cats. Don't say you're sorry unless you are. Don't tell me not to give up my day job. Don't stop challenging me. Don't cut in front of me on the highway and then slow down. Don't set rules for love or friendship. Don't print instructions in type too small to read without klieg lights and a magnifier. Don't hide from my emotions. Don't push my dog away. Don't make  promises. Don't squint at me and ask "Is that a ZIT?!" or say "Boy, you look TIRED!" Don't chew with your mouth open. Don't say "You can't miss it!" when you are giving me driving directions. Don't walk away from me during an argument. Don't touch me with dirty fingernails. Don't tell me everything is fine when it isn't. Don't be afraid to say what you think, act from your heart, lead with your chin, and dare me to play above my game.