... Or should I say is. I mean, He ain't dead, isn't what all the fuss is about? More like a zombie, I'm guessing. Look, I'm not being blasphemous here, I'm just trying to get the facts straight. I have always been one to care for a clear perspective of the world, you see.

So, back in those days life was quite a blast. He had his posse (with chicks and everything), the meal was on Him all the time, you didn't need expensive medical insurance because if you needed, say, your leper cured, you just had to ask Him! Sure, He had a bit of a problem with the authorities, but who doesn't? Also on the downside, you had to walk everywhere, but that was fun too actually, you were like on a perpetual peripatetic summer camp festival. Nothing to worry about at all. No homework, no rent, no grocery shopping, no malfunctioning wireless servers. Nada! I wouldn't even gasp if they were rolling a fat one during the evenings in front the fire, where everybody was encouraged to tell their life stories, talk about comics (cos there weren't movies in those days, dah) and, of course, share some love experiences. Wasn't it all about LOVE, as the single most quintessential thing in the God created universe? I bet He was patient too, he listened carefully to everybody in a totally non-judgmental way and had a word of advise at all times.

My question is, what the fuck happened ever since? How the fuck did it all come to that ostentatious display of gold and lavishness and cornucopia that is, excuse the word, the church? Have you seen Vatican? It's obscene! I mean, apart from Michelangelo, Rafael, Donatello, Liberace and the other turtles, everything there is a blasphemy to the memory of this lovely chap.

So, ladies and gents, for those of you celebrating the catholic easter, without further ado, let me give you back The Buddy Christ, the very one from the set of the off-biblical (way off!) movie Dogma, one of my old time favorites.

The cheerful disposition never left me. This morning, I woke up very early, spent about three hours in preening, because I'm sure you know by now that in an interview, be it a job interview, the looks count more than the resume. Not that my resume is not good enough, but in a world of good enoughs, a decent look makes the difference. Also, it was an excellent opportunity for me to show of my new printemps collection of hot couture. (God, I'm good with words!). So, dressed up as the queen of mods, nothing less, I believe I made an excellent impression on the recruitment lady. I certainly exceeded my own expectations. I was so communicative, so spiritual, so poised, I truly amazed myself. I may have made a few things up just for the sake of an interesting conversation, but all in all I told her exactly what I wanted and she seemed committed to help me get it. Because normally I'm quite grumpy and serious when with new people, I need quite a lot of foreplay in order to let my hair down. So maybe I'm starting to change, to evolve into a superior being, the homo comunicatiens, and all I have to do in order to achieve something is to look pretty, smile and have no problem in expressing myself in a flamboyant yet effective way. Wouldn't that be great? The world would be a better place.
Or maybe is just Mercury not being retrograde anymore, but who's counting?

I walked home for about an hour and a half, it was a worm, sunny springtime day, and the soft breeze was caressing my face. The purple satin ballerina shoes didn't exactly thank my feet for it, but what the hell, I was stoic. I resisted most impulses to enter shops, except for the couple of times when I badly needed to check myself in the mirror, because I was afraid my mascara was yielding. False alarm!

When I got home I wrote no less than four excellent pages, that need no revisions, probably the best pages of the chapter so far. I'm so excited about it. Finally, I feel I found my own voice, quite innovative, direct, I got rid of pompous words and I go straight to the point. I'm loving it. And as if all that wasn't enough, I spent quality time with my flat mates, Sabrina and Toni, and after all this time of almost-belligerent attitude, we really clicked and had fun.
I can't ask for anything more, can I?

The rest of the world being so busy as it is to go on with its things, thought I should stop taking note for a while and focus on my life, if I may call it that. Ok, where should I start? I'm just gonna enumerate stuff, in no particular order.

1. Toilet: fixed, broken, fixed again, probably breaking soon.




2. Roommates: a short recap for those who couldn't be bothered to read the early stuff. Toni, the Italian photographer / actor / waiter. I don't know what to think about him still, yet he's the one I'm bonding with the most. I reckon he is profoundly unhappy, but I respect him for struggling so hard to achieve something. Whatever that might be. Last weekend we went together to the Juliette concert, me as a reporter and him as a photog. We spent about two hours talking.

the rest @ www.marmeladesquest.com

Yesterday I was walking on the street, minding my own business, which is going to the mall to do some discount shopping, of course, and baaam!!!, it stroke me. Spring is coming, y'all!

Evidence: exhibit A, here:

http://marmeladesquest.com