My only good ideas ever come in the shower. I have yet to find a waterproof computer so I have to jump out, soaking wet and write down whatever it is I was thinking, but it’s never as good as it is in the shower. Which is the case right this very second. I wrote a goddamn Lydia Davis story in my mind in the shower and the second I got out it was jumbled and no longer all that great. It did make me cry writing it though. So there’s that.
Also, my computer is now wet from the fact that I stood over it, dripping from my shower.
I write about mothers as though mine was this horrible monster who abused me, or, at the very least, ignored me. None of that’s true. She was the first mother in line everyday at school to pick me up so I never had to wait or ride home with someone else. She stamped hearts or smiley faces into my crustless sandwiches. She let me stay home from school to swim in our pool (and also because she was bored and wanted someone to talk to). So I’m not really sure where this dark mother stuff comes from. That’s all…
Not That It Was Ever All That Funny
I have been attempting to write from my hammock everyday after work this week (because it gets dark so unnaturally late these days) but everything is either really dark or really dark plus really angry. Mostly due to my realization that there isn’t a single good to decent person in this entire world. (Where’s the humor in that?)
While almost everything I’ve ever written is about rape or unhappy childhoods or people being broken-hearted and lost it usually had a twinge of hope or humor (I hate that word) or light at the end of the tunnel bullshit. Not anymore. It’s just riddled with darkness.
So this book project has been halted. Yet again.
that is all.
A Grief Observed, Or: I Can’t Believe This Was Written By The Same Man Who Wrote The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (Or: That’s The Book That Made Me Stop Reading For Most of My Childhood)
Things I Don’t Understand (Part 12)
-Glee
-Couscous
-Why my bike pedal came off
-Megan Fox
-Human nature
- The space time continuum
-Why hobo’s STILL go through my trash (have they not yet seen enough of Monkey’s poop to be turned off by it?)
-Why my boss crouches over like she’s an umpire whilst looking in the fridge. Every time.
-Chicken fried steak (I mentally can’t wrap my head around it enough to figure out if it’s chicken or steak.)
-Why I still watch Lost
-Lady Gaga (what is that?)
-Recycling (more on that later)
