"ANYTHING IS HARD TO FIND"

I swear that while I have a lot on my plate at the moment, I'm not even stressed about any of it and consider these days rather merry ones. But, for whatever reason, for the past week-ish, I have been terribly tired from about 7pm on, and when I finish things up and drag my ass into bed around 11or so, I sort of drift for a bit then toss and turn for hours. Hours. Here it is after three. I feel tired as can be, but I'm just not nodding off. Not over-caffeination, not anxiety that I'm readily aware of, not feeling suddenly unsafe in my own home, not physically uncomfortable, not cat mishigas, not dread, not being too warm or too cool, not nocturnal neighbors-- I don't know what it's all about but a nice long sleep would be lovely.

On a totally unrelated note, when I worked in retail several years ago, at a store that sells dishes and glasses and wedding registry sorts of crap, I made some friends that I count among my closest. Hyperbole Mel, Ass-Kickin' Tammy, Dirty Walter, The Other Cat Lady, Scratch-n-Sniff Terry-- those kids. Anyhow, Ass-Kickin' Tammy is now the honcho of that very store, and she just told me that she was at work the other night and was fucking robbed at gunpoint. That. Is. Terrifying. I am so glad nobody got hurt. Hyperbole Mel noted that had it been back in the day, said robber would been pelted with all sorts of crap we were supposed to be enthusiastically peddling but secretly wanted to throw. My question is, why that store? I mean, if you were going to go and rob a joint, wouldn't you aim for, say, a bank? A jewelry store? A cash-only sort of operation? A high-end something or other? Well, whatever. Lame-o robber dude better be glad he didn't just try to overpower Ass-Kickin' Tammy. I don't call her Ass-Kickin' Tammy for nothing with her little collections of black belts and such.

Oooh, maybe I'm tired enough to try to sleep again. I'm out.

"HOLD ONTO YOUR FRIENDS"

My cat has this hilarious new habit: He gets up on his hind legs and bats at my plants, super-fast, like he's doggie-paddling. He looks like a tiny person, a tiny guy, when he does this. He does this if he thinks I'm ignoring him; he does this when he thinks I am snuggling him too much. There is no wining with this cat, and I know it.

Today was great. I worked and completed my daily to do list without any nonsense, and right smack int eh middle of the morning, I got an email from an old friend who I was roommates with in my early twenties. I haven't seen or heard from her in, holy shit, like eight or nine years, but, I have to tell you-- we batted emails back and forth today and caught up and just had to best time. I saw a photograph of her six-year-old daughter, she married a guy I peripherally knew, she hit hard times, but learned about herself and emerged better than ever, and emailing with her made me think those were some good times. I don't think I stopped to realize that at the time, but those were fun times, doing all of that silly stuff and listening to the this and that and finding out about bands that have totally jumped the shark now, and working lame jobs we wanted so much more than and didn't have the patience to deal with at the time. Emailing with her made me so happy and glad to know she is okay and happy and it made me glad to be in touch with her again.

"A RUSH AND A PUSH AND THE LAND IS OURS"

The strange posting ahhj at Jewcy was worked out. Here is my post about the strange flavors of soda Jones Soda Co. has whipped out for Christmas and Chanukah, here is my post about the Bal Shem Tov, and here is my post about a fab organization, Jewish Women International.

Who shall I look forward to seeing at The Fixx tonight? John Sheppard and Renee Rosen, people! There or square, yes.

In other news, my radiators are either off or blasting. Try not to let this turn you on so very much, but boob sweat only minutes after getting out of the shower and drying off is so bleh-feeling. In still other news, I had a dream last night that Baby Neptune could and did fly. Not like little cherubic fluttering wings, either. No, the tiny little guy would look over and giggle and blast off, and his parents, Mr. & Ms. Mermaidhead, were really pissed off about how "disruptive and aggressive" his flying was and were a little miffed that I thought it was such a riot. I mean, c'mon. He's this maverick daredevil badass flying baby. That's funny.

"SECONDS TO SPARE"

Hi gang. What's new? Not a thing in the world is new here. The usual today. I heard a fabulous story about a fabulous woman making out with an Italian stranger in a dance club and showing off her new breast lift. Uh, which I heard from said woman with strings of Arabic music floating around the room.

"GOLDEN LIGHTS, DISPLAYING YOUR NAME"

Guys, remember when I was talking about Sixwire? They're on the Next American Band and the lead singer, Andy Childs, is a long-time family friend. They did a really pretty cover tonight on the show, and they're super-hard-working and super-humble, super-nice guys who never take themselves too seriously and really work so very hard to make it work so I urge you to consider voting for them after the show tonight. And by "urge" I mean, of course, "demand". C'mon, most of you know how upstream it can be to do a creative thing for a living. I sure know, and I know a lot of you know, too. So, let's show some good people the good support they deserve.

Mmmmkay? Thanks.

Need the number? 1-866-U-LOVE-05 or 1-866-856-8305. You have only two hours to vote from riiiiight NOW.

Uh, that is a toll-free number, so it's not going to kill you or your phone bill. Ahem. Aaaad, VOTE!

"ACCEPT YOURSELF"

Shalom, I cut bangs. I like them. They sort of force me to not be so fussy about my hair. And, they look a little bit rockabilly, which, doy, I like very much. Not baby bangs, just bangs, long, floppy bangs, but they're awesome.

Speaking of awesome, the black and chrome Mini I lust after is parked across the street. Who are you and may I please have your car? What? You can have my car. That would totally be fair. Ohh, speaking of cars, not next weekend but next, when I head to Omaha for the (Downtown) Omaha Lit Fest, (gosh,ilovethatwebsite) I'll have company this time. Jami Attenberg is flying to Chicago then driving out with me. Won't that be a fun time? If our Omaha mojo continues, it's bound to be an adventure-- remember the semi-barfight she and I got into last year the night before the lit fest? (Her take on it--- I always forget about the sweet couple that helped dispose of the ne'er-do-well.) Yeah. Oh, and the night we arrive, I'm doing the Omaha edition of Jonathan Messinger's delightful Dollar Store Show. Same piece I did in June, complete with drill sgt. and fratboy impersonations by yours truly.

Going to see Mermaidhead after I do a cuppla things. She's counting the days. If all goes as planned (and g-d forbid it should not, kaynahorah, puh puh puh) we'll all get welcome little Neptune into the world next week.

"NEWS ON THE RADIO HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

So, I wrote her an email, and I just realized this morning that it bounced back. So, let's all face Rhode Island and sing at the tops of our lungs: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SKIRMISH OF WIIIIT! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUUUUUUUU!


MANY, many, many good wishes and lots of love to Nicky, an all-around wicked funny lady, a great friend with a kind heart, a beautiful soul and a woman with the ability to turn the very unforch into the extremely forch.

Now, click yourselves over to wish her a Merry 30th.

"I WILL SEE YOU IN FAR OFF PLACES...?"

Did you heard about the earthquake?? My friend Hyperbole Mel is in Peru. Oh, please, please, please be okay. Gosh, I feel badly about all those people. Everyone is, after all, somebody's Hyperbole Mel.

Sigh. Now, we wait.

UPDATE: Hyperbole Mel is alive and well. She was in a pub and skipped out, apparently. Not that I'm surprised by that at all.

"THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT" PART 2

I think one of the most sacred and, in a way, beautiful things about being human is grieving. I really feel that when life happens and someone we care for lands in a situation of loss and needs to grieve, it is our only task to support them and take care of the details for them and help them grieve. Not distract them, not try to cheer them up, not to change the subject, not ask for any information or thanks or direction from them, but just to act in a way that says, I have the details covered and I will save your place, you step out for now and return only when you are ready. Hold nothing back, my friend. Grieve. Grieve as hard as you can.

The details, the what, when, where, how and, possibly even, the why are not for us, but for the grieving to ask of the situation, the world, the ether. And, the what, when, where, how and, possibly even, the why are not for us, but for the grieving to offer when they are ready. Information emerges on its own in due time. I feel like the best thing to do is to let things lie, and let people speak and share when they have processed things, taken it in a bit, and are ready to share.

A friend I love so very much is grieving hard tonight and facing difficult times ahead.

We never really know how losing those we love, both animals and people, will feel until we lose them. And, when someone we love is feeling the confusion and grief of losing any sort of companion, all we can do is love them, hold them as close as we can, and say, I have the details covered and I will save your place, you step out for now and return only when you are ready. Hold nothing back, my friend. Grieve. Grieve as hard as you can.

"ACCEPT YOURSELF"

I visited Mermaidhead today and sat with her in her living room in the chair as she fidgeted on the couch. She looks so good now that she is out of that hospital and in her house again. I mean, wait, she looked fine in the hospital, she's always gorgeous, but she looks smiley and glowey at home. I brought her construction paper and posterboard; inspiration struck her in the morning and I happily brought art supplies to fulfill her creative mojo.

You know, not that it matters what I think in this regard, but we were talking today about life and ideas and meaning and purposeful, mindful living and I think that really, whatever people that she and King Neptune guide into adulthood are going to be really fine people. I really think that. I do.

That said, we got the laptop and sneaked a look at tiny punk baby shirts and laughed at awesome "onesies" with funny, badass graphics like the one with a tricycle that read "boobie, binky or blankie-- nobody rides for free" and laughed about "there are people fucking on the back of my shirt!" and "mommy drinks because of me". So funny. Yes, yes, I'm completely Jewy superstitious about not buying baby items before a birth too, but it was just a look at a website, nothing was purchased. Just a peek. I pride myself on giving tiny children dirty t-shirts. This is my plan, always. I am that gifter.

After, I ran to the gym and got a super-fast workout and two mile short-run in just before they closed. The first 3/4 mile was shitty, but then I found the right song (not surprisingly, I run with music in the same way that write to it) and was able to rock out the rest of the run fast and evenly and well and perfectly paced. Pace is key. I see people hop onto treadmills or start on races or just run around the block and just haul ass and seem confused as to why they can't run very far. Pacing is everything, I feel. I learned that one the hard way-- even though I'd trained really well, and even though I knew better, I was so excited to be finally running a marathon that I ran just a tiny, tiny bit faster that my usual pace for the first few miles that day and really struggled to keep myself feeling fueled and energetic later in the race. Now when I run, I hit this pace that I know is the perfect pace for me and it feels good and strong and any silly crap that popped up during the day disappears.

I might be nuts if I didn't run. It's the best time to just be and just think and just feel my muscles and tendons and bones and joints and sense of balance and all just work together. It's a funny thing, too. When I set out on a run, my mind is always busy and filled with to do lists and errands and projects, but stride after block after mile, my brain sort of rearranges itself and settles down and I can just be.

Anyway, enough seriousness, I'm watching a show on television asserting that the Bermuda Triangle (Puerto Rican Trench at about 5 miles deep) and the Pacific Dragon Triangle (Mariana Trench at about 11 miles deep), because they both fall, latitudinally, about the same, are connected in at planetary core by a land-bound blackhole that connects via wormhole and thereby presenting a hypothesis that black holes, active Atlantic volcanism and less-abstract versions of white holes exist on earth (in an igneous way), interconnectedly and this theory is being supported mainly by example of agonic lines.

Okay, wait, that was serious, also. Nerdy as shit, too. Okay, uh, forget I just said all of that.

I'm going to bed. Night, folks.

"IF YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO SPARE"

Random things:

1. You know, a few posts ago, Kapgar asked me, mostly jokingly, to clarify a bit when I said my Dad was on "the other side of the world". Turns out, he is, though not at an exact opposite location to Chicago. In discovering this, I found this website which is fun to play with. You set your location, then find out where you'd pop up if you were to dig a hole through the earth. I'd, uh, pop up just to the side of Australia if I dig from Chicago.

2. Paris Hilton might have to go back to jail. I am embarrassingly happy about this.

3. I still need one local author for the June 28th Fixx Reading Series night. I am taking nominations and suggestions. Aaaaaand, go.

4. I had a great long run and workout yesterday. I'm still running under my marathon pace, but I'm pacing okay considering I didn't really run all winter.

"HEIR APPARENT"

Tonight was pretty great.

To begin, my Dad just called from the other side of the world! I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw his cell phone number on my phone! First thing he said to me, So? Who won the ballgame? This call, of course, made me very happy. He said the large city he's been working in is a "total shithole", that the poverty was worse than he could have imagined it to be there. But, he called from an airport, as he is moving over to another smaller town tonight (well, it's tomorrow already for him) for a few days. I'll be glad to be in the same country again, but he seems to be having a good adventure, and I can't begrudge anyone that.

In pretty good news, I had a fine time at the baseball game tonight.


I wondered how it would be to go to a neutral game, and solo at that, but, you know, it was good. Irish Ho and her Dad were there, though in the swanksylvania section, so I waved at them when they decided to leave at the bottom of the 5th inning. I can't say I blame them; it was 52 degrees in Chicago tonight afterall. It was nice to just sit and enjoy baseball.

I was sitting around a bunch of dudes, and confused them completely. They kept asking when my "husband" was going to come back and fill the empty seat next to me. Yeah, right. Sorry fellas, I'm showed up alone, I'm going home alone. They didn't believe me until the 7th inning when one guy said to me, You really are here by yourself. I sat a while, then got up, came back with a soda and a giant order of nachos-- they half-kidded me that I'm too "little of a girl to eat jalapeno peppers" and so delighted in eating every last one. Is love of spicy food supposed to be masculine? Beats me. I'm all about the peppers, the hotsauce, all that. Love it.

Of course, this was a challenge, though I didn't realize it at the time. When a few of the guys around me got up and came back with nachos covered in peppers, I realized I'd thrown down a challenge without realizing it. I watched them slam beer, scoot peppers out of sight and turn bright red rather than admit it was just too warm. Haha. Sucka. That'll teach you.

On the train home, in small talk, I completely dissed a Mets fan, though I wasn't trying to. It was a long, chilly way home, but finally, I'm home, in bed, covers pulled up high, my cat curled up next to me and the space heater on. Yeah, the space heater. In June.

"AS I LIVE AND BREATHE"

Done. Several deadlines have been met for now. Aaaand cue decompressing.

I was just given a single ticket to a baseball game tonight, of two teams I can't stand, but I'm going anyway. Never been to that corporately-sponsored ballpark, never been to a baseball game alone, either, but it sounds pretty good. An adventure, in any case. I have no idea how to act at a baseball game of neutral importance, either.

But first, I'm heading over to pay a visit to poor, bedridden Mermaidhead. I think she's bored to tears.

"REEL AROUND THE PROJECT"

Big deadliney day. I got some very vague parameters for this project, so I am mostly writing nothing. I wrote a little, but not a lot. Not as much as I need to write to work it out. Few things frustrate me as this issue does. Sometimes too much leeway makes my brain shut down, boggling with possibilities and unable to narrow any of them down to something useful.


In other news, my Dad made contact from his trip and appears not to have been kidnapped so I'm relieved, Mermaidhead is having a rough go of this pregnancy business and is on bedrest from here on out so I'm trying to think of fun activities I can supply her with that don't require moving, I need to track down one more author for the June 28th installation of the Fixx Reading Series, my cat figured out how to jump on top of the doors in the apartment, but can't figure out how to get down so he cries sadly from doortops, I just learned the term "cunt helmet" to describe a person switching into an unreasonably rude mode (As in: "Gee, I didn't get much sleep last night, so I totally have the cunt helmet on today." This is gold.), and boy, oh boy, is my head starting to hurt.

I believe I want a new trash can.

I also believe my cat hates my plants. C'mon plants, ignore that cat digging you up and live, damnit! Live! You were doing so well!

Seriously, I am so stumped on this writing project that I got down on my kitchen floor yesterday on all fours and scrubbed it down with bleach. Still, nothing. Sigh.

"SO IGNORE ALL THE CODES OF THE DAY"

The reading last night was small but fun. Timothy Schaffert is so funny and such a delight to be around. And his book! If you have not yet read Devils In The Sugar Shop you are missing out on a beautiful book with such sharp and smart laughs. Get it. Get it now.

I'll post some pics in a bit when I can. I also want to tell you all about some very exciting bits of news I have coming together this week in the writerly world. but that's all going to have to wait.

My grandfather was taken into surgery this morning and we're all waiting to hear what's what. The grandfather I just saw last week. Good vibes to Louisiana, if you don't mind. It sits on my mind heavily today, obviously.

"THE FAMILY LINE"

Okey doke. Let me bring you up to speed.

The reading at Bookwoman was lovely. The audience was a small one, but they were mighty. It lent a nice air of casualness and intimacy, as if friends were together chatting, so it was something new and a different way to do things, so a great time. Virginia of Virginiainc came out (and brought along her CDs to hand out, many thanks for mine, and was super-cool to meet and chat with beforehand), along with other fine people including an old friend, Primavera, who now calls Austin home.

After the reading, which I kept low-key and enjoyed, Primavera and I set out with the idea of some tattooage, but got sidetracked at a cool bar in her neighborhood, then dinner at Maiko Sushi (asparagus tempura roll? Yes, please.), then after dashing around in the rain, we settled in for more drinkage at The Ginger Man. I have to tell you, I haven't seen Primavera in fifteen years, but we had an incredible time hanging out. Really. I am almost stunned by how easily we chatted and laughed the night away, and I was delighted to discover how many things we have in common these days. I felt time spent with her was wonderful and meaningful and, needless to say, I am very glad Primavera and I are in touch again. She is just the kind of person moments aren't wasted upon. She does incredible work and lives life so wonderfully and fully and, well... the world could use a few more just like her, really. Or, we could all stand to learn from her. Maybe both.

In fact, we had such a lovely time hanging out that we decided to meet up again before I left town. So, we met up at Halcyon the next morning for latte. Love that place. Good, good times. I can't even really blog it justice. Something about hanging out with and really connecting with someone from my past gave me such a solid sense of clarity. It was comforting to hear another perspective on shared events from long ago that maybe help to shape me one way or another.

After a quick errand, I was on the road. The drive was mainly uneventful, except for spotting a funnel cloud threatening my car (no biggie, right?) and soon I arrived at my brother's house. We hung out a bit, he let me dig through his latest (breathtaking) photographs, I made him haul my heavy-ass bag out of the car, the rain caught up to me, we went to dinner at a kick ass Tex-Mex place, then held court in a chill neighborhood bar for a few hours before calling it a night and heading back to his place.

I woke up this morning on his couch with the television airing some Clive Barker adaptation that involved a little person cast as perhpas Pan's evil alter-ego who generally made himself a nuissance by boiling goldfish, scratching walls and summoning up a devil-guy. Uh, okay.

We're chillin' today. Something outdoors before the next wave of thunderstorms hit this afternoon.

"ANYTHING IS HARD TO FIND, WHEN YOU WILL NOT OPEN YOUR EYES"

I wonder, sometimes, how many emails I have deleted because the sender thought to be clever and use a subject line that looks like spam to me or my spam filter. Eh well.

Yesterday was a good day in so many ways, mainly because it toed a wonderful line between silliness and seriousness.

Though I knew Mermaid Head was super-busy and I only aimed to stay a short while then get out of her hair, catching up was lovely so our visit was most of the afternoon. We talked about SCUBA and adventures, discussed our treks (past and future) to the better beaches the world has to offer, a stubborn sewing machine thread, and everything else, really, and just existed for a few hours. I really like this about Mermaid Head-- she's the kind of friend to just sit and exist with. No deadlines, no stress, no stuff. Even stressful times are rather serene in her world because she's just earthy and genuine and un-fussy and open and non-judgemental, probably without even realizing. I admired her mama-to-be belly and, I think for the first time, thought about the quality of person she'll raise up into the world. This kid will be an astonishingly good person, that's for sure.

As a belated gift, Mermaid Head gave me "Lookin' Good For Jesus" lipbalm and a stabby Avenging Unicorn action set. Einstein now will have company on the road.

Then, off to celebrate Irish Ho's birthday. We went to dinner at a Thai place on Division and people-watched then off to a drink at a bar that once was low-key and off-the-beaten-path but apparently now is, uh, well... it was hosting (we learned after hanging out for a few hours) a late-night 80s retro night. Only the DJ was born in 1985, so I don't feel like I entirely agreed with his depiction of the 80s. Perhaps it was a bit 1989-1992. Maybe I was just painfully aware of a general lack of (a) Smiths (b) Cure (c) Joy Division, etc. Anyway, Irish Ho and I were joined by Super Sarah and the three of us snickered at complaints of the 1983 and under club such as, "Shaddup you 1986er, I was born in 1984! I'm totally feeling old!"

Finally, with the statement, "So, either we have to take some drugs or we have to leave." was issued, we made our exit, but not before a rather funny scene in the restroom. While waiting on line to pee, a pretty young blonde woman came in and took her place in line. A woman not having her finest moment, let's say, looked up and asked the blonde if she was on Top Model. Instead of a simple "yes" blondie comes back with a huge Miss America grin and replies, "THANK YOU. I was." and the two have the weirdest conversation that involved the preoccupied woman asking many questions and the blonde thanking her for compliments never issued, then half-complaining that her weekly shooting schedule was brutal.

I don't know. I left with Super Sarah and Irish Ho, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in a sense. We're past the phase where it's fashionable to try to convey maturity with complaints of feeling old, but rather at a point where it feels good to be independent and feel healthy. We're a little tougher than we were a decade ago and have had a decade plus to have gotten our respective shit in order. We've already had a few adventures and learned to rise above some petty nonsense and enjoy things as they come. It's a good era, that's for sure.

But, I'll admit that it was nice to be carded, too. Har. We parted ways, but only after giggling that we all remembered the words to a particular Motley Crue song and singing it for a moment on the street corner to the dismay of passersby. Mature, see?

Serious, silly, serious, silly. Just as it should be.

"OSCILLATE WILDLY"

Last night, I went to a store I adore, The Book Cellar for a very different kind of author reading. Though she did read from her book, Alpana Singh (Alpana Pours) also served as sommelier of the event, pairing wine with books. This, as you can imagine, is right up my alley. Her book is wonderful, especially the section she read about pairing wines with rice cakes and Chee-toes. As someone who has long been pairing wine with Spaghettios and Taco Bell when the occasions arise, I knew this book would find a special place in my heart immediately.

I, of course, wanted to make an attempt to convincing Singh to do a vegetarian (good) or vegetarian writers (better) edition of her television show, Check, Please!, but, in the end, I thought this might seem a little creepy for a strange woman to suddenly be in her face pitching her ideas, so I passed.

The writers behind the books paired with wine were the books of Wendy McClure (I'm Not The New Me and The Amazing Mackerel Pudding Plan: Classic Diet Recipe Cards from the 1970s, who also shared a hilariously funny short story with us about a pet fish, and the wonderful friend friend I made in Omaha last year, Jami Attenberg (Instant Love), who also read a bit from her new novel (can't wait!).

I was pleased, also, to see another friend I met in Omaha, Michael Barnes who is so incredibly talented and such fun to be around. So, with many familiar, smiling faces, BFFs, partners-in-crime and old friends in tow, we all headed out and about for (more) wine. The brain behind the bookstore joined up later (and we had a spectacular conversation about marathon adventures), I met a hilarious copywriter (who reminded me of a best friend in third grade) and it was, all in all, a lovely night.

Of course, I'll ask what I always ask: Get these wonderful books, tell other people if you enjoyed them, then add them to your LibraryThing and Shelfari pages. Better yet, go to their readings when they're in your neck of the woods next.

Today I'm paying a visit to Mermaid Head to see her mama-to-be belly and give her a big hug, then it's off to dinner (and probably even more wine) with Irish Ho to celebrate her birthday. Tomorrow V. is here for the day. Monday I have dinner plans in Memphis. Wednesday I have a reading in Austin. Bonk! Boom! Pow! Woot!