1) Do you consider yourself an emotional person? Which emotion do you experience most regularly?
I don't just "consider" myself an emotional person, I'm fully aware of this fact. It's a nightmare. Most days I oscillate between anxiety and guilt for the most trivial of reasons. When I feel euphoric, I feel guilty about it. Most shocking thing is I'm basically very happy and wouldn't change one thing -- except the anxiety I feel about things changing. What a mess.
2) What is on your refrigerator door?
Just fingerprints. We have a non-magnetic stainless steel fridge. We've created a collage of Caroline's & Paul's artwork on the bathroom wall and have a magnetic whiteboard acting as a catch-all for other would be fridge collateral: Jack Raymond's baby announcement, the invitation to Tom & Dawn's wedding, my Lemonheads tickets and a mailer for James' 20th high school reunion next week.
3) If you could get rid of one piece of furniture in your house what would it be and what would you replace it with?
The couch, of course. It's way beyond Febreze. It's beyond industrial strength cleaning. It needs to be set on fire. Over the past few years, it's been subjected to unspeakable things: "unreliable" diapers, Vito doing dirty things to his stuffed rabbit, popsicles, granola bars and mini-pancakes stuffed in between the cushions, magic marker murals scribbled across the back of it, etc. (BTW, don't fear the couch at the Christmas party. We'll flip the cushions over.) Obviously I will replace it with a new couch when the kids are less apt to use it as a hiding place for soiled Pull-Ups and half-eaten snacks.
4) Do you believe in intelligent life on other planets?
Yes. Given the infinite size of the universe, it would seem like a gigantic waste of space if we were the only ones. It'd be short-sighted not to believe that there are intelligent beings elsewhere -- not that I'd ever want to meet any of them. Aliens are scary.
5) What was the last concert you attended? It would've been Keane, had it not been for Tom Chaplin's rehab stint. Instead, the last show I saw was Roger Waters at the Tweeter Center. Great time. Flying pigs and hovering astronauts and psychedelic light shows. I was never a fan of Pink Floyd until I was pregnant with Caroline. For some reason, it was the only music I could listen to. I found it soothing. On any given night, James would come home and find me lying in the dark with empty Devil Dog wrappers scattered around me, listening to Pink Floyd with Vito. The best part was he never found this to be an odd sight. He'd just ask, "Is this the Final Cut?"