I feel like I lead a thousand different lives, but really it’s only twelve. I think that’s the most that any of us have, thankfully.

Nine of me are not mothers; three of me are unemployed; two of me are employed illegally; but all of me look the same. We were all born at the same time (though with time zones, it doesn’t seem that way). We are all 28, female, pale-skinned, with blue eyes.

My names vary, which is complicated. In Boston, I’m Amy, a full-time Editorial Assistant. I’m a cashier named Pearl in Atlanta. In Hollywood, I’m a semi-succcessful actress named Desiree. In London, I’m Julie, and unemployed. In Dublin, I’m an IT Specialist named Bridget. I’m Kulap, a prostitute in Trang, Thailand. In Nago, Okinawa, I’m Eriko, a tour guide for the Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium. I am Jane, a painter in Lanzarote. In Casablanca, I am Aisha, wife of a mechanical engineer. In Anchorage, I am Sarah, a fifth-grade school teacher. In Phoenix, I am Mary, a faith healer. I’m a trained assasin named Isa in Zaire.