Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Name Game!

1. YOUR SPY NAME (middle name and current street name):
Marie 105

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME (grandfather/mother on your dad's side and your favourite candy):
Sheila Chews

3. YOUR RAP NAME (first initial of first name and first three or four letters of your last name):

4. YOUR GAMER TAG (a favourite colour, a favourite animal)
Green Lemur

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, and city you were born in)
Marie High Level

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (first three letters of your last name, last three letters of mother's maiden name, first three letters of your pet's name)
Ern Hutxia

7. JEDI NAME (middle name spelled backwards, your mom's maiden name spelled backwards):
Eiram Tuhcalb

8. PORN STAR NAME (first pet's name, the street you grew up on)
Einstein Chinchaga

9. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favourite colour and the automobile your dad drives)
The Green Jetta

10. YOUR ACTION HERO NAME (first name of the main character in the last film you watched, last food you ate)
Shu Soup

Monday, January 19, 2009

Work Circus

We are high-wire trapeze artists; skill, nerve, and luck weave together to make this tentative balance high above the crowd. I can feel people hold their collective breath as we move past and through each other. Trusting in our hands, clasping wrists. Should we falter, fingers fumbling, heart skipping, grotesque moments lengthend unnaturally, distended, waiting to divulge their private horror, like a rancid flower blooming. The floor miles below, sucking me down, arms waving comically, legs kicking, hair blowing in eyes clenched, spine curving against nothing, wind whistling past my ribcage. My head so heavy it tips me skull first down. Mechanisms in place, gears slowly, inching, like a train starting, the grate of continents, pinions falling, doors sliding, ropes pulling, making a net, like the arms of an angel, my savior, salvation. "There are systems in place."

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Please sir, may I have some more?

I think I've lost the ability to relate to people. I left the party somehow and when I came back, everyone was speaking a different language. It is extrodinarily lonely to be surrounded by everyone and yet noone at the same time.
How does one come back from this? Where is my map, my sextant? This is unfair; being so acutely aware of Sartre's anguish. Where is my blanket? For protection and forts that hold secrets like a balloon. It has been used too long for sleeping while the other children played. It has forgotten it's purpose: and in it's forgetting so have I. My knees are brittle with effort.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Go watch Mad Money

It is nothing near what it is like to work with huge wads of cash but watching Diane "Martha Stewart" Keaton freak out makes me happier than a bag of crack. Which is, incidentally, what Queen Latifah offers to pay her sons' tuition in.

Correction: Watching Diane menace some giant bewildered black man standing at the urinal was way better.