2001-05-22 7:50 p.m.
oh-wee-oh-wee-oh

so I got temp work...yay. whoohoo. ;)

honestly, it didn't really matter one way or the other. I should know by lunchtime if it's something that'll last or not. hopefully at lunchtime I can write an entry, just to keep my mind flexing. I hear I'll be doing rapidfire dictation, so it's a good thing my typing speed got sick over the last three years (clocked currently at around 77-91 wpm, according to my last three temp-testings).

all of which means bollocks to my writing.

I went out and rented Taxi Driver and Princess Monaoke (the Neil Gaiman-scripted Hollywood version)...but I think I'm going to work on One Tear tonight.

You'll laugh (or cry, depending), but I came up with this book ages ago, as a means of telling the story of my life as it's been unfolding, and aside from scattered notes, I haven't written a word of it, beyond two false starts (one of which I like).

The start is a moment of complete rejection and being left behind, and honestly, that was what my first night in New York was like...like turning a corner that you can only turn alone, and realizing that you can't be the same person anymore. If you try, as Garth Ennis' John Wayne in "Preacher" puts it, "you're treadin' water!" You pretend that you can keep the same existence up, and you just keep on going through the same old paces until you look up and you're twenty years older. Just that � twenty years older.

That's not gonna happen. No.

My protagonist tries. For a day. And that's the first issue.

left turn:

shit, do I need a new light in my room. (currently a red-bulbed paper lantern, refracting onto cool blue walls. It's kinda pink overall.)

I'm getting a lot more comfortable with my laptop, and my ability to write with it. Who needs a desk when you can crash out in bed, put on some good music, and hammer away until the keyboard bleeds?

Wedge seems to have made my bed his second home lately...maybe that's because he's more comfortable with me, or just that I've been home more and he sticks to who's around, or just that it's a convenient place to lick himself.

Probably the last one.

left turn again:

Vegetarianism's been considerably easier than I thought. The further I get away from meat, the less I miss it. The whole trick is keeping from eating tons of unhealthy crap, which, again, I'm managing to do. Last night, Dan and I feasted on Japanese curry; tonight, a cheese sandwich and a bowl of miso soup. (I saw a review of a restaurant in Williamsburg called Soma that sounded both inexpensive and goooood...Scandinavian seafood bisque...goddamn.)

I did buy Silkmilk again...that stuff's addictive. ;)

left turn once more (almost a circle, see?):

more and more I'm thinking about prose. what would happen if I finished one of the shimmer stories (a set of short stories that I've been purportedly working on for years, but only halfassedly look at once every six months, then put away again), and got the damn thing published? that's be strange.

they're pretty horrific stories...not horror, just horrific, snapshots of times when old instincts, repressed behaviors, and genetic memory get the best of a person. If I get them copyrighted (which means they're "done"), I'll post one on the Web, just for the sake of not alienating an audience that constantly hears about unpublished work.

The user count goes up every day, too...quite disturbing. If anyone's reading this one and has any feeling about it, click on the 'join the pattern' button and sign the guestbook, yeah? that, or just click on 'contact' and write in. it's pretty quiet on this end...kinda like the OK Corral...;) the quiet before the storm...