Achilles’ Hell

Although my admonition to draw the line between professional decorum and personal emotional attachment was articulate and sober, one of our intrepid, ultra-efficient assistants plunged wide-eyed into the unclear possibilities with the model we were working with. Gorgeous people come and go, I warned, but your job is constant. But how can you reason out with the dreaded yet exhilarating four-lettered word? Now she’s scattered. Half-giddy, half-possessed. With a pinch of stupor occasionally creeping in her lovely face. Poor girl. She’s a goner. This is her struggle so I exercised restraint, stood back, wordlessly. Knowing full well everyone was her at one breathing space in a lifetime. She’s a mirror of our inherent humanity. A reminder that despite our jaded resolve, we’re still, essentially, clay.

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Ok, I'll yell this once but REALLY LOUD: Before you vote for me VOTE FOR CHIKSILOG!

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hewhoshallnotbenamed (9/11/2007 11:45:39 PM): loud, I ask myself why I have absolutely nothing witty to say to you now. Is it possible that you've flattered me too much by quoting me several times that I have lost it? I offer instead a poor substitute -- I voted for your blog today :)

The vote is appreciated in heaps! We all have momentary moments of void. No worries! Temporary catatonia is excusable. The acting of Mark Herras on the other hand...