Proust Q 5.0 December 2009: Mrs. Edwina Claus

December 11, 2009

Oh, I had other offers, but how could I refuse when Mrs. Edwina Claus tweeted to ask if she could get into the Yule edition of 11th ave.’s Proust Questionnaire 5.0 (What’s this? Jump to the note at the bottom and do come back.). So, with bells on and direct from the North Pole, here she is. Poor dear.

Since we are conducting this interview via email, the world is ours for the inventing. In what city and establishment would you like this interview to be taking place? I suppose I should say someplace festive, like a Christmas village in Austria, but I’m sick to death of the cheer. What about Winnipeg? I’ve heard it’s quite spiffy. And would they have a place like … I suppose you’d call it a beer parlour? Something with terry cloth on the tables, smoke in the air and top 40 on the juke box. If they still have juke boxes.

What would you be wearing? No red. No white. Something in animal print. Maybe a little cleavage.

And, most importantly, what would we be drinking? Pitcher of draft would do me just peachy. And a pickled egg. I haven’t had one since I met Mr. Claus. So long ago.

Okay then. What are the qualities you most admire in others? Fearlessness. Like this new type of woman I’ve been hearing about? These cougars? Intriguing.

What do you like most about yourself? My sense of loyalty. No, wait. Well, okay, loyalty.

Least? That I just told a terrible fib. Oh dear. Barman? We’d better have another pitcher.

What is your greatest achievement? That’s more like it dear. I do make quite a good Moravian ginger cookie. The Mister just loves ’em.

What is your present state of mind? I’m afraid the beer is making me a bit weepy. You see, things have gotten a little complicated at the Pole and, well I probably should ask that barman for a coffee. Excuse me, sir?

Where and when were you happiest? Well, you just won’t let it go, will you? It was after one very long shift in the toy shop and Mr. Claus was out with the reindeer (Always the reindeer!) and I only meant to brush the wood shaving out of this swarthy elve’s hair and, well… We slipped off to be alone and fell asleep and when he woke up, I’d commandeered one of the Easy Bake Ovens off the assembly line and the tiny muffins were sublime. Gustav was his name, but he was gone back to Hollywood by the time the last sleigh headed out with the last sacks of gifts.

What was your worst job? Packing up that Easy Bake Oven. It was my last reminder of … Barman! I most certainly did NOT order a coffee. And as you can see this pitcher is dry!

Your favourite colour? Green, the greenest green of Gustav’s snake tattoo.

What is your idea of perfect happiness? (Sniffles.)

Of misery? Gustav! Come back to me!

How would you hope to die? In the arms of Guuuuuustaaaav …

Any last words? You won’t mention this to my husband, will you dear? Barman, cheque please. Oh, I’ll take care of it, I insist. You have a wonderful Christmas.

Admit it. You read those celebrity Q&As and you know you’re easily as worthy of being profiled. I know I do, but my friends are way more interesting. So, with nods to the “confession albums” of the late 1800s  made famous by the fabulous Marcel Proust’s answers, to French TV host Bernard Pivot who adapted the questionnaire, to Inside the Actors Studio host James Lipton who gave it another spin and to Vanity Fair, which uses its own elegantly spun version to anchor the magazine’s back pages, I submit for your entertainment and enlightenment, my own version of the Proust Questionnaire, re-retooled for a blog age.


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