quit pro quo

i used to go to work and sit blankly in front of a computer monitor in a light yellow basement, waiting on newly admitted (over eager) students to call and ask me if it´s alright if they double major in neuroscience and molecular biology while minoring in mathematics. While perusing perezhilton.com, I´d tell them they can do anything they want to do, just not that. I´m so far from that life now. Lately, I seem to find myself in one of three play-houses, each with its own distinct personaility and people. Sometimes I´ll walk through almost complete darkness, through endless hallways painted black. It´s not uncommon to find yourself stumbling upon an oversized styrofoam fetus with an adidas jersey, or a blow up doll, clad in lingere, fully equipped with 3 resourseful orfaces. Other times a womans omnipresent voice will abrudptly echo throughout the rooms of the house in sharp and demanding icelandic. of course, i run for the hills when this happens. Step into the makeshift elevator and be greeted by a man wearing only bright yellow bloomers and large fake teeth. I nod politely. As we ascend into the theatre heavens, I look through the peep holes to each floor as they pass by quickly. with each passing floor i will briefly catch something that may or may not make me want to look twice, although there is no time to look again, its gone. he steps out into a room where everyone is dressed in tight white cloth, swimming on the hard floor. I nod, and close the door. Now, total-playhouse-transcendence- music , singing,.. my floor. If i have learned anything at all, its that icelanders love to sing, so much that they will find any excuse to do so, which is beyond fine with me, because its always astoundingly well done. like my teacher who sang to my class. these kinda things keep me level. keep me fine. I dont know what they´re saying, but its fine, because its beautiful all the same. In my next life, I choose to be an Icelandic actor.

nordic-thai lunch. this is my new favorite kind of lunch. one icelander, one swede, one dane, (insert me), and thai food. nordica-thai, think of the possibilities.

today there were bloody canadians at work Kafka and Son. I could smell their O´s and U´s.

dear grizzly bear, bring on zee magic.

alas. i am leaving. the lone rider on bus #19 at 11:21pm.