Several surreal birthmarks, closet-librarian and 5-star general of my own avenging angel army. Don't try this at home, kids...
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Daring myself to do reckless, meaningless things, forcing myself to do evolving, meaningful things, hiking up mountains, walking alongside water, tightrope walking against fate, plucking hair (mine and others- I like to give back to the Earth), thinking about certain succinctly perfect and brief moments in my Flashdance existence, rockclimbing, recollecting favorite shoes from my past (in 1989, it was a pair of Fluevogs that I was certain would change my entire life), sending psychic messages, summoning spirits, tequila shots, garlic and chilis, reading books over and over and over and finding new and innovative ways to laugh until my entire skeletal frame is quaking and wobbling with utter, insane joy. Cooking's not bad either but I don't know how to set a table...
Myself at 4, 10, 13 and 21.
The Cure, stuff from the 80s that no one was supposed to like some severao odd years ago but that I grew up with and is (much to my chagrin) now considered retro, The Rapture, other bands that sound like The Cure, 50 Cent, Outkast, music that makes me feel so tough that I might just fuck you up, Cafe Tacuba, bands whose lyrics that I don't understand, electro clash, drum n bass, Drunken Tiger, ranchero cumbia, music that makes you go "oh-yeah" and/or "boo-fucken-hoo".
I like movies that I have to read. I like Lars Von Trier. I like Gong Li. I like movies with food like "Eat Drink Man Woman" and "Babette's Feast". I like fat funny guys like Jack Black. I like rip-your-heart-right-out-of-your-aching-chest movies like "In the Mood for Love" and "Truly Madly Deeply". I like movies that make me want to vomit like "Dogville" and "Irreversible". I like films that demand I sing along like "Georgia" and "Hedwig and the Angry Inch". I like to make lists too...
No-budget-cruelty-in-its-lowest-common-denominator-and-fines t-form shows like "Just For Laughs Gags" make me fall on the floor in prepubescent joy. Watching people get scared makes me gleeful. Also, "Murder She Wrote" or "Golden Girls" for a glimpse of the decadence and adventure that awaits me later in life and Lloyd Robertson on the news because my sister thinks he's hot.
Don't get me started...
There's this fabulous man on the East Coast of Canada. He is in a motorized wheelchair and operates it by mouth. When it gets very icy and hazardously slippery outside, he zooms like a bat out of wheely hell down the sidewalk, his boombox blaring out lipstick metal from the 80s. If you don't jump out of the way, he'll run you over without batting an eye. Everytime I see him, I want to get his autograph.