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I'm not in the habit of telling strangers what they should or shouldn't do...unless it's election season. Or if slow-walkers are diagonaling in front of me; or worse yet, backwards-walking with cameras pointed up. Ok I don't actually say what I'm thinking to the latter, but I...well, I think things. Discourteous things.
My Ideal Person:
Having spent way too much time cooped up trying to meet my latest deadline, the prospect of talking to people other than myself seems interesting. What am I looking for exactly? Not sure, that's why I'm here. But I do know I'm looking for the real thing, whatever that might be. How that Justice put it about porn: I know it when I see it..that's what I think about this stuff. You can't define it exactly, but when it hits you over the head, ya know.
The last great book I read
Re spy novels, Frederick Forsyth of Day of the Jackal fame
enraptures me. I prefer a couple of his less popular ones
because you don't know how they end. Along with a knockout
twist, his Fist of God has the best opening line of any thriller
in my opinion: "The man with ten minutes to live was
laughing." Also loved his Cold War era The Devil's
Alternative. Then there's Tom Stoppard. I swoon for
him too, Arcadia most of all.
My most humbling moment
Probably wondering which one takes the cake, so I'll
go with most recent. I was visiting friends in LA and tried
surfing for the first time. As I kersplashed and kersnuffled,
letting fly curses that would make a trucker blush, I watched
teenage Neptunes nimbly navigate waves I could only manage
on my knees. I gazed up at the sky, silently apologizing
for the shame I was bringing upon my ancestors. I recalled
a time I rolled my eyes at a slow-talking vacant-eyed surfer
who used the word 'dude' a few too many times (yeah,
I use it too, but trust me, there is a point after which it
becomes a mosquito screech to the ear). Anyway, now I've
got respect.
Favorite on-screen sex scene
Yo, I got it on in a grotto on the Amalfi Coast. TV? Movies?
Please. Ok tragic confession: the setting was the best
part. Then paramour was something of a sextard.
The celebrity I resemble the most
I've gotten Ashley Judd, the Felicity chick and Angelina.
Of course the latter is most flattering and least accurate...sorry!
Speaking of that particular inaccuracy, I'm reminded
of something haha a friend once said. He was talking about
a girl, complaining she didn't have enough going on
"upstairs." I said something like, "Wind
whistlin through her ears, huh?" and he goes, "Darling,
I wasn't talking about the attic."
The best or worst lie I've ever told
Those I've told and heard made me realize how much I
admire sincerity.
If I could be anywhere right now
I'd find a way to be there.
Five items I can't live without
Ravishing writing, especially in the form of suspense
movies and novels; implements to write my own; my parents'
cabin on a lake in New Hampshire, with them around; whisk(e)y;
and at the moment, my new boxing gloves.
Fill in the blank: _____ is sexy; _____ is sexier.
Mad sparkly ensorceling desire is sexy; mad sparkly ensorceling
desire with love is sexier.
In my bedroom one will find...
An old-fashioned desk with secret drawers, a lamp with
a faux antique map for a shade (yes, there be dragons). Two
small fake rose bushes (am a sucker for flowers but dislike
watching them die and the stink when they do: too funky so
fake it is). Sunlight streams in from the windows overlooking
my street with tree branches enhancing the view, as well
as a guy across the way who changes at night with his blinds
up (ok I only watched once, but knowing it's there amuses
me). Overflowing dark wood bookcases. Pale blue walls
covered with paintings (mom's an artist, I dabble,
just bought several from a single-toothed Balinese farmer),
posters (love new Courbet self-portrait The Desperate
Man), favorite photos from my trips collaged around, postcards
of heartthrobs Byron, Keats and Shelley from their memorial
museum by the Spanish Steps taped above my desk, an old Persian
rug my grandma left me. New blinds it took me all night to
hang but dammit I did it. A closet that got more and more organized
as my deadline nears. Not OCD organized, but it's pretty
pleasing now.
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