Book's out finally.

Although if you're reading this you're either a) a friend who already knows it's out or b) a random stranger who doesn't care.

Buy it anyway.

Ashland, Kentucky's National Holiday

Almost ten years ago some of my old friends and I instituted a new holiday. It was the year I was to graduate high school, 1996. We declared that every ten years starting on that special day, the sixth day of June would be forever known as Evil Day. The first Evil Day was celebrated with great gusto. An EVIL role-playing game was played in the park . . .with Mormons! Next we went to a children's playground . . .and walked UP the slide and went DOWN the stairs! EEEEVIL! Water guns were bought, wars were fought in dense woods, and speed limits were BROKEN!

It was truly a day of Evil.

The second Evil Day is upon us, less than one month away. I had planned on asking my friends to come to NY for the occasion, but since I'm asking them to come to Ashland (none are there anymore) less than one month after that, it seems excessive. I don't know how to celebrate Evil Day this year. I am beginning to think on it. I know a day of work will most likely be missed for the occasion. Lisa suggests that I wear all white that day. I think she just likes me in white, to be honest.

What are you going to do for Evil Day, my fellow nerds? Perhaps you will inspire me to greater heights of Evil than I ever thought possible. I have to make this one good, because I'll soon never be allowed to have fun AGAIN.

Almost another month

My book that I wrote is pretty much done. Just have to approve it.

I don't think anyone reads this blog. Why would they, I never post.

Blogging has become rather irritating. What's the damn point to it? Just more pointless talking on an internet full of it.

Life is weird. I'm moodier than a woman going through menopause. I swing like crazy. I don't know what's going on, whether parts of this are symptoms or causes. Christ, I'm such a baby. And I've been drinking too much. My life is great right now, I need to accept that and stop trying to find reasons to hate myself. That isn't like me. Maybe me six years ago, but that piece of shit needs to stay in the past.

Just a lot of stuff going on, I guess. And what am I doing? Oh, I'm fucking writing about it on the internet. Good job, really accomplishing a lot there. At least no one reads this.

I don't know if I'm anxious, depressed, addicted, or disgusted. Ah, fuck. Who cares? More whining like a goddam teenager. Buck up, me.

Fiction Express is available

My kids' book is finally available! Order it from here!

I Yet Live

Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins have a great new album out, called Rabbit Fur Coat. Good voices, good music, good songs, kind of a roots-country type thing with some bluegrass and hymnal influence. I like.

I've befriended some parents from my class. I like it, feels great. Good folks.

Ordered some more Salvia. May have some with Lisa for her birthday. That should be interesting.

Book only has ending left to be edited.

Kids' book just needs to be approved from the proof and then we'll be on. Very excited.

One of my best friends from college was in town and didn't tell me. I hadn't called in six months. I hate the phone, but she's got a point. I'm used to male friends who are fine with no contact for months and months. So that sucked.

Things are great overall, though.

I got invited to a Cute Boy Poetry Slam. It's been years since I was invited. I guess I'm finally cute again.

Things I Hate

1. When people don't tip. Don't be cheap, don't be a jerk. Tip your waitress, waiter, bartender, cab driver, whatever. They rely on it. People that don't tip drive me crazy, and I haven't even ever had a job that gets tipped.

2. Getting sick over and over again. One of the downsides of being surrounded by awesome kids is their germs are less awesome.

3. Anybody who talks down to my kids or, God forbid, lays a hand on them. More on this later.

4. Genre fiction. Yeah, I know I wrote something that's pretty genre-y (revising it now), but that stuff is so bad. Sci-fi, fantasy, romance, all of it. Whenever someone sits down and thinks of a genre they want to write before they actually think of a story or start writing or whatever, you're just adding to this big pile of crap literature. I know I'm a nerd and I'm supposed to love this shit but I can't stand it.

Hands

On the one hand, I turn 28 today. On the other hand, I'm in the best place I've ever been, life-wise.

On the one hand, I missed work yesterday to fight the Transit Adjudication folks because someone gave them my info when fare-jumping on the subway (in stations I've never used) only to be turned away and told to come back another day. On the other hand, I may very well have gotten a new, nice 3 Bedroom apartment last night.

On the one hand, it turns out Lisa didn't get food poisoning. On the other hand, it must have been a virus because now I'm running to the bathroom every five minutes.

On the one hand, I have a couple of great things coming up for my class (we're going to publish our fiction through lulu.com and we're going to do a very high-level poetry unit involving T.S. Eliot, Shakespear, Richard Brautigan, Langston Hughs, and maybe more). On the other hand, I've missed two days of school in a row for stupid things I hate doing.

On the one hand, my birthday party was kind of fun and Lisa looked great and I liked my gifts. On the other hand, I'm getting too damn old for that stuff and ended up (again) not being able to talk to the people I really wanted to talk to.

On the one hand, I'm getting good notes back on my book. On the other hand, my folks are sending me a new computer so I'm reluctant to do a whole lot of work on it before that, and then I move, and then . . .there's always something.

Anyway, that's my life. It's much better than it sounds right now, but it is hard to be enthusiastic with diarrhea and nausea competing to see who can kick my ass hardest.