Wendy has tagged me for a meme:

"List one fact, word or tidbit that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your first or middle name. You can theme it to your blog or make it general. Then tag one person for each letter of your name."

Since I've "come out", more or less, I'll use my real name.

I - Irreverent, of course. I chose this word as my blog name because I've never quite taken the status quo as my guide; I've never quite meshed with common expectations. As I mature, I've increasingly stood outside the norms -- motherhood, marriage, ambition, aspirations, morality -- with a slightly crooked grin on my face. Not that you would necessarily be aware of that at first glance. I'm a quiet type in real life. Several of my favourite memories revolve around the astonishment on someone's face when they've discovered that I've done or said or thought something that they had considered far outside my supposedly conventional, even demure, character. Heh.

L - Loyal? Probably not ... though not precisely disloyal, either. Loveable? To a select few, but not widely. Likeable? To a larger few, but I'm not awash in friends. Luscious? Sometimes I manage this spectacularly. Other times, not so much. Limpid pools, my brown eyes? Depends on who you ask. L, L, L ... I'm stuck.

O - Ontario. Though I love to travel, I've always lived in the one province. And yes, you can fit the entire UK into it five times over, supposing such a thing were possible, but still. One part of one country, my whole life long.

N -Naughty. Distinct thread in me, in which I take great pleasure. A bit of an iconoclast (could've used that for "I", couldn't I?) Occasionally biting, often mischievous, deliciously bawdy bytimes. An aspect of myself that has gained me friends and lovers, and, I suspect, lost me a friend or two. (Not, I hasten to clarify, because I mess around with friends' lovers, but because there are an astonishing number of easily-shocked people out there.)

As a young mother, I once cleared a sandbox of fluttering mummies who were complaining about their husbands' lack of sexual sensitivity, by making clear (and, I thought, relevant) reference to cunnilingus. Within moments, it was me and my toddler, alone at one end of the sandbox, and all the other mummies and their tots at the other. Pfft. Squeamish bunch. If this can send them scurrying away, no wonder their husbands are "insensitive". I roll my eyes at them ...

A - Ambitious? Nope. Avaricious? Not so's you'd notice. Amiable? I suppose, but it's being damned by faint praise, I think. NOT American: Canadian, thank you. There's a difference. Artistic? I'm a competent pianist, have played about with other instruments in my time, have a pleasant enough voice ... Auditory!

That's it. I'm auditory. Sound is important to me. Pleasant sound -- music, melody, wind, birdsong, rain, running water, the steady tap of my keyboard -- bring me pleasure; unpleasant sounds -- angry voices, excessive volume, certain electronic noises, the tick of a clock late at night -- cause me distress beyond what is reasonable. I use music to mold my mood: calming music for times of tension; powerful music for times of uncertainty; driving, rhythm-intense music to see me through a boring but necessary task.

Wendy! This was far more difficult that I thought it would be when I started. But there, it's done, and I hope I haven't bored you all to death...