Fantastic Metropolis

17.10.05—A Quick Survey

I saw this survey on Jen’s blog and just had to be a lemming and pass the meme along. I think it’ll also help all my new readers get grounded.

What’s on your bedside table: A glock, gasmask, some rations and Tedda, my little stuffed doggie. :)

What is the geekiest part of your music collection: That CD with the Gregorian chants.

What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night: Ha! I wish I had a fridge out here. Back home, yogurt (mostly Dannon Strawberry). Out here, mostly just Life Savers and other sucking candies. So much dust ends up in my mouth.

What is your secret guaranteed weeping movie: The Last Unicorn (it’s lame, I know! Shut up!)

If you could have plastic surgery, what would you have done: Breast reduction.

Do you have a completely irrational fear: Honestly? Sometimes I worry that humanity is so degraded and shamed that we are truly beyond saving.

What is the little physical habit that gives away your insecure moment: AgentSmith75 says that I rub my left temple with the tips of three fingers.

Do you ever have to beg: What do YOU think!

Are you a pyromaniac: heheheh, depends who you ask ;)

Do you have too many love interests: I have only one love.

Do you know anyone famous: You could say that.

Describe your bed: Currently, I sleep on a mat.

Spontaneous or plan: Spontaneous

Who should play you in a movie about your life: Right now I’m thinking anime’!

Okay, this thing is already too long. Good night, dooblebugs!

30.10.05—ugh

I hate myself and want to die.

11.11.05—Make a wish

My cousin Kelly told me that once in what I called the Lime Kool-Aid summer. I spent three weeks out on Long Island with her and my favorite aunt Margaret. They always had a bit more money than my mom and an above ground pool. We had lime Kool-Aid every day and played all sorts of little imagination games in the pool, like Indiana Jones meets Jacques Cousteau and Mermaid and Sailors. That second game was like junior slut training. Then when the mosquitoes started chewing on us, we’d go inside watch some MTV and practice dance moves til dinner. Nighttime was for HBO movies. We sat through all sorts of crap. I even saw D.C. Cab before it was cool and ironic to admit to it.

Anyway, one night we were drinking yet more bug juice (really, I’m amazed that the green ever got off my lips and teeth) and Kelly turned to me and said “It’s 11:11, make a wish!” It was just a weird little thing a pair of kids shaking from sugar and hormones say sometimes, but it stuck with me. Whenever I saw those four 1s glowing red in my clock radio or on one of those outdoor clocks made out of dozens of little lightbulbs, I’d make a wish. Usually for a halfway decent relationship, or some clue as to What I Am Supposed To Do With My Life. I dunno if it ever paid off, but something sure happened to me. The voices tell me that tomorrow men will come for me, and that I will not be getting away this time, but that I shouldn’t be afraid for (the voices never say “because” for some reason) I have done well in the sight of God…

I’m shaking, but it’s not from fear, and I’m crying a bit but it’s not because I’m sad. It’s just…energy, seeping out of every pore, like some weird dynamic kind of exhaustion. They tell me Westminster is finally burning, and I don’t need the voices to tell me that I might be next. It’s fine though, it’s all for the best. I seriously believe that…

The plan is all coming together. I can tell because it is the eleventh of November, 11/11, and I just made another wish…

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“Joanierules.bloggermax.com” was originally published in Rabid Transit #2: A Mischief Of Rats (Velocity Press, 2003).

Nick Mamatas, the author of Northern Gothic and the forthcoming Move Under Ground, writes his own blog at http://www.livejournal.com/~nihilistic_kid/ .