Executive Decisions @ Maha Inc.

I’ve not been able to write substantially these past couple of weeks because I’ve not had much of an appetite for anything. Usually, it’s writing that calms me, but this time around I’ve not been able to either do or focus on anything outside of a couple of situations that have pulled my attention into a black hole. Recognizing that, I’ve been forcing myself to write out little stupidities so as to focus on something outside of everything else that’s currently going on…what follows are the very stupidities I’ve been working on. If you mnage to forgive their boring nature, you may find something interesting in them, anyway.

.1. I was in the gym a few days back and took my very first executive decision on behalf of Maha Inc. I decided that the only type of Crack for this girl is first and foremost The Stiletto.

A while back, I posted a photo of my first platformed Crack. I was born for The Stiletto, because The Platform makes me wobbly. For some strange reason, it also makes me stare at the ground while walking…most likely because I expect The Platform to introduce me – on an intimate level – to said pavement.

I am currently having dreams about the last pair of Crack I fell in love with and didn’t purchase while in NYC. I’d never done that before, never actually not purchased Crack when I saw it and felt an immediate chemistry with the Crack. At the time, I was standing in a corner store on 5th and imagined that moment to be a turning point, a point of maturity in my life.

Unfortunately, this mistake has turned into some sort of a trauma because I can’t stop thinking about them and am attempting to seek them out on line. I believe the brand was Hype, but I could be mistaken. They were open-toed leopard print Stiletto Crack with a diamond buckle on the front and a red lacquered heel.

And so it is with this in mind that I have made my second executive decision: When I see The Crack and I love The Crack, I must immediately buy The Crack.

I don’t mind occasionally being floored by the depth of my stupidity, but I can’t tolerate actively instigating such thoughts, most especially not when it comes to Stiletto Crack.

.2. I love babies. All of them. And this Christmas, I received no less than 7 Christmas cards with photos of other people’s children…and other is in italics because God damn it, I want my own.

Email me if you’re a taker.

Anyway, back to the story at hand.

In years past, I only received two photos of this sort. 2006 has been a busy year for my friends. In case I don’t get busy as they did in the coming year, I have taken the third executive decision that: I too will include a photo in my next holiday greeting card.

I will include a photo of my most prized pair of Stiletto Crack, purchased during the year prior. I may wrap them in a pink baby blanket, for the sake of humour, but otherwise, photos of Crack it is.

Consider yourselves forewarned.

.3. A couple of weeks back, I was speaking with A from my French school. In November, he moved to his new home and he’d still not completely unpacked. In preparation for the Holidays and The Coming Of His Family, he had to finish up quickity split.

I got home later that day and was faced with the reality that although I had poked fun at A for not having completed his unpacking, I too had not completed my unpacking. I slowly entered my storage room and met the stares of the seven boxes still unpacked, nearly one full year later. They dared me to open them up and discover their insides. Open them up I did.

Apart from finding my old law school books, I discovered that one box was filled with paraphernalia from the time I was in love with The Latino Bisexual, Ricky Martin. Scandalized and shocked I was by the amount of utter sh*t I had compiled, thought was important enough to pack and then move to my new home. A moment such as this gives rise to above sentiment of ‘being floored by my own stupidity’, but the Latino Bisexual moment is a moment I am willing to engage, unlike that initiated by the trauma of missing out on Stiletto Crack.

If anything, it was a fun discovery for the videotapes were hilarious, the interviews so contrived,** and as much as I loathe to admit it, the photos were lovely to ogle. Notwithstanding the amount of make-up he uses, he is a beautiful man.

**I was reading aloud and doing the following:
Interviewer: “What is the sexiest thing a woman can do?”
Ricky Martin: “Know how to pamper herself”
Maha: “Shhhhhhh, Ricky! Just shhhhhhh! Be pretty and shhhhhhh!”

.4. Happy New Year.

.5. This would be a great time for something extraordinary to happen in my life.