Coke or Pepsi?

The following is part of a questionnaire I ripped off from Matty's blog because I'm too lazy and tired to do much else.


What is your favourite TV show of all time?
Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.

What is your middle name?
"The Road"

What foods do you dislike?
Pineapple -- it's those pointy little cat's claws in the rind, the stringy texture, and the awful specificity of its flavor.

What is your favourite crisp flavour?
Huh?

Favourite Sandwich?
Ethan Canin and Jonathan Lethem.

Favourite item of clothing?
The cravat, the sock garter, the nehru jacket.
If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Mongolia.

What colour is your bathroom?
Do you mind? I'll be out in a second.

Where would you retire to?
My chambers, of course. Are you going to barge in on me there, too?

Favourite time of the day?
Any time you open me a Boddington's.

What was your most memorable birthday?
Five. My favorite color: pink. My mother baked a cake with pink candles and set it on the table where she'd arranged a bouquet of pink roses next to a small pyramid of presents wrapped in pink paper and tied with pink bows. Everyone was singing and eating this sugary pink cake and taking my picture -- flash bulbs, kisses, and lots of questions that even at five I found asinine. My grandmother peered at me through her viewfinder. "Smile," she said. "Wave. Give your brother a hug." Her camera regurgitated polaroids, which she let fall on the pink tablecloth. Soon I grew dizzy with all the attention and then my cheeks and forehead began to flush. Since I wasn't feeling well I became very quiet, and I remember observing that nobody seemed to notice this but continued to photograph me in my pink party hat. That's when I puked pink cake all over my pink pajamas.

Beginning, then, on my fifth birthday and for a few years after I couldn't stand the color pink.


That was the seventies. Back then, my dad worked at a paper mill in Everett, Washington. His boss let him bring home irregularly cut reams of paper for me to draw on.

The morning after my fifth birthday, before he had to leave for work, my dad taught me how to make hats out of the newspaper. I practiced it several times, and I was fascinated with the process of folding those crisp lines. As soon as he finished his coffee and left, I went into my room and opened the drawer where I had a nice, thick ream of pink paper. I folded every single piece into a tri-cornered hat and then I lined the hats up neatly all around the edges of my bedroom. The sight of them made me feel nauseous. But at least I'd used up all that awful paper.

For the rest of my childhood, my mother remained stubbornly convinced that I loved pink, and not wanting to dash her hopes, I guess, I pretended to prefer it over blue and green and orange.

e e e

Now, though, I love all colors and I don't hide that from nobody, nohow. Especially red. Which is a whole 'nother story.

Where were you born?
Seattle, Washington.


Favourite sport to watch?
Boxing.

Coke or Pepsi?
Sake. Not hot, though, no way! I will only drink it if it's 110 degrees, precisely. If it's not, I'll throw the glass to the floor and crush the shards with my boot, then I'll toss my head, pull my coat snugly around me, and stalk out of the room. The room will be silent for a moment and then everyone will spontaneously applaud.

Vodka or Brandy?
Chekhov.