From the ages of nine to thirteen I lived fifty feet from the shore of a smelly manmade lake in SoCal. The lake was home to two beautiful black swans, husband and wife. The wife was affectionately named “Lipstick” due to her bright red beak. One fateful day (it was probably a Sunday), the couple was floating carelessly across the lake and failed to notice that they were drifting closer and closer to the edge of an enormous concrete dam. They both fell the entire distance to the water below; the husband lost his life while Lipstick escaped with nothing more than a broken wing. Thereafter, whenever I saw Lipstick float by, wing askew, it felt like I was watching something very important; a relic of a revered past, living out her final days in solitude. The Queen of the Lake.
- remaining objective
- shaking the building with my sub(woofer, HA)
- setting goals and meeting them
- delaying gratification
- giving massages
- first person shooter video games
- perceiving other people's moods
- being polite and respectful to customer service workers
That's it, really. I try to keep my dependencies low.
I've never been to a concert.
I used to work at a tanning salon.