A Game of Tag

The latest game of tag by way of Murat11 from the lands of a few other turtles. Answer all the questions, except one that you don’t like. Replace the unloved question with a new one of your own. Then, add a new question.

What is your obsession at the moment?
Paris, France. Come June 22, little lost in the world me will be 30. I’m mostly all empowered about it, with an occasional bout of, “Oh come on, really?!” I figured nothing less than fabulousness is called for to celebrate such a moment. So, Mom and I are planning a jaunt to Paris. Where to stay? What to do? What will it cost? Apparently the difference between visiting Paris now and visiting Paris at 17 is an awareness of logistics.

What are you not wearing at the moment?
A tiara, though I could totally rock it out if I were.

Do you nap regularly?
I get home from work just in time to watch the nightly news with Brian Williams. Perhaps it’s his dulcet tones, or the comfy factor of my couch, but I’ve developed the habit of falling asleep about halfway through the national news and waking right at the beginning of the local.

What’s your theme song?
“Everybody” by Macy Gray

What do you want to change?
The mood at work. It’s so tense right now.

What are you going to have for dinner?
Lemon-thyme zucchini and goat cheese pizza. It’s a Weight Watchers recipe and is perfect for spring.

Your last purchase?
Bananas and Easter candy

What are you listening to at the moment?
“Migra” by Santana

Favorite weather?
Sunny and warm enough for short-sleeves but cool enough for porch sitting

Your goals?
Surviving and thriving

Say something to the person who tagged you:
Hey Murat, tell the missus that the Son of Pears has happily embraced Home Comforts this year with a check, a drive, and now there’s talk of a bake sale. Her candle continues to burn.

Favorite vacation location?
Right now, Paris. Though I love to go and see, so anywhere and everywhere.

Films you can watch over and over again:
The James Bonds, the Star Wars, the Lord of the Rings, the Matrices, the Pirates of the Caribbeans, the Wallace and Grommets, the Hellboys, the X-Men, the Batmans…

What movie(s) will you never see again?
A.I., Eye of the Beholder, Transformers, Babylon A.D…Okay, actually I might watch that again even though it was a suckfest. What can I say, I like bubblegum movies. Sometimes I’m entranced by the sheer awfulness.

Favorite tea?
I was going to name something fancy here, but honestly I’m happy with my mug of green tea with lemon.

Book you are currently reading?
“First Among Sequels” by Jasper Fforde

What do you want to do one day?
Buy a house. Funny, that’s the first thing that came to mind.

Which quality would you like to have?
Published

Name one of your qualities:
Clever

What are you waiting for?
I ask myself that all the time. I currently have found no satisfying answer.

Which old-fashioned trend do you hope will soon return?
Hats. Let’s all wear more hats.

One song you're embarrassed to admit to liking:
“Womanizer” by Britney Spears. I give her studio team credit for making a catchy dance number.

Milkshake or crème brulee?
Milkshake

The Nose Knows

Thank God for minor tragedies,
how else to lubricate the sinuses
through the varying fluctuations
in barometric pressure.
Married men and allergies
and a nose bestowed by Poland,
I should have invested in Kleenex
and not in that new outfit.
It must have been a sign
when I smelled a skunk beforehand,
but now I’m simply stuffed with
snotty implications.

Impressions From a Mixer

Talking liquidly
a ghost bumps my shoulder
and a bit of my heart spills onto my blouse
—damn, that’ll stain.

Where to wander in a room
full of women with no last names
and men with two first?
Who to talk to when every stranger
is a card away from being a friend?
What to do when you don’t know
how to naturally mix at a Kaizen event?

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you, this evening,
for participating, tonight, in this
opportunity, post-workday, for
outwardly mobile social dialogue.

Sharply narrowed,
tautly curved,
crisply pressed,
rattlesnake printed,
diamond-studded
—what’s the point?

The Unexpected Me

Early morning acidic sarcasm.
Late afternoon childish diplomacy.
Sentimental tears post-midnight.

Three Blink CDs in storage,
Invitation to business mixer by email.
Mala beads on the bedside table.

Discarded pariah,
Aching surveyor,
Emerging caretaker.

Documented,
Considered,
but still,
Where’d you come from?

Bluebird, what do you feed on?

by Carl Sandburg

Bluebird, what do you feed on?
It is true you gobble up worms, you
swallow bugs,
And your bill picks up corn, seed,
berries.
This is only part of the answer.
Your feathers have captured a piece of
smooth sky.
Your wings are burnished with
lake-morning blue.
It is not a worm blue nor a bug
blue nor the blue
Of corn or berry you shine with.
Bluebird, we come to you for facts,
for valuable
Information, for secret reports.
Bluebird, tell us, what do you
feed on?

Please Keep This Between Us

dark inklings
itching round
the corner of the eye
near the bridge
of the nose
exhaled outward
hmmmmmm
characters carousing
with very little wordplay
and I kinda figured
but didn't really
need to know

How to Care For a Blue-Footed Booby

First, know your limits. Is your pocketbook generous, your heart strong, your patience spectacular, and your knowledge of caviar replete? And how do you do with sharp beaks?

Accustomed to the clime of sandy coastal regions, the blue-footed booby flock to seaside resorts, summer regattas, and floating casinos. They respond well to praise, air kisses, and champagne toasts.

The blue-footed booby once had dreams of performing in the Russian ballet, web toes tripping lightly across the boards to such acclaim that swans would never be allowed near the lake again. Now they settle for summer stock and television hosting, with the occasional color commentary gig. You must support these endeavors with love, kindness, and multiple head-shots if you wish to keep your booby pleasantly inclined.

Traditionally of the B’Nai faith, younger blue-foots have become increasingly drawn toward Shamic Islam. This is merely for you own understanding of your booby; under no circumstances should you question a booby’s faith as they are apt to become stubborn and contrary.

When your booby throws its inevitable tantrums, let it sigh loudly and collapse against at least four pieces of furniture before trying to fetch your booby around with soft cooing noises and spa certificates.

The traditional attendant of sommeliers, blue-footed boobies make excellent companions to vineyard owners, bottlers, cork farmers, or anyone who enjoys drinking large quantities of wine. Should you form a rapport with your blue-foot you can expect years of witty conversations over crudités and soft embraces at sunset.

Popular names for blue-footed boobys include decapitated royalty, disgraced Olympians, and rock star widows.

Enjoy your new-found friend!