Eye Walk LA

Me and Theodore

2012-02-06T18:55:00.001-11:00

Hey Friends,

I'm all about the tumblr now

http://maryhamilton.tumblr.com/

xoxo

Morning Routine

2012-02-04T05:38:00.001-11:00

Repeat Repeat

2012-02-02T05:07:00.000-11:00

I Know, Right?

2012-02-01T05:03:00.000-11:00

I found my soultwin on http://www.waldopancake.com/

Well.

2011-12-07T14:04:00.001-11:00

Ah shit, just read my last post and realized I was in a low place.

Well.

Some days you're up and some days you're down.

Supernovas are so depressing

2011-12-01T10:30:00.004-11:00

You know, you hear the word "Supernova" and you think it's something really awesome.

But it's actually something really depressing.

Because what it is is an explosion. And it burns so bright, it outshines everything around it and then it fades away and then everything is gone.

So I've been pretty depressed lately, feeling like I've wasted my life up to this point. I'm not saying this to get pity or for someone to say "Noooo! You're special!"

Really, the earth has 7 billion people. There's a lot of competition for making a mark and, no, everyone is not special. We are not all individual little snowflakes who make the world a beautiful and lovely place.

Some of us are just breathing. Just consuming resources and taking up a little space. And when we go away we won't have a big bright explosion or a shining light. We'll just fade away. And that's it and that's all. And a few years will pass and no one will remember our names or our faces.

I've just been feeling like it's a wasted effort to try to make an impact because it will only be fleeting, it will only be overshadowed and it will only be stepped on by someone with more potential to be awesome.

I don't know what happens after a supernova. I didn't study enough to know. I might even be wrong about what I do know. I imagine the light goes out and millions of rocks are spread across the universe, moving and falling until they crash into another planet's orbit and burn up in the atmosphere before they can even make a mark on the land.

Sorry to be depressing, but hey, it's my blog. It's my brain. It's my prerogative.

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Eye Walk LA*

2011-11-12T21:05:00.005-11:00

I just decided to start blogging again.

(I think I'm fairly safe in doing this as it's been so long, maybe no one's reading this any more.)

I also decided to get a mohawk again. Because when times get tough I usually do one of two things: shave my head or get a tattoo.

But my tattoo artist is in Chicago and I'm in LA

And I'm trying to grow my hair out for a new hairstyle that may result in failure and a newly shaved head anyway.

I just downloaded the Ellie Goulding album "Lights" and I've been listening to it all night. Plucking my eyebrows (perhaps inadvisably) and holding my hair back in mohawness and working on a smokey eye and drinking copious amounts of white zin.

You see I've had a day.

I work in "retail," but it's a specialized form. I am an optician and, goddamn, do I love it. I combine math and figuring out prescriptions and all the details of that, with styling a face. Finding the right frame to match the entire facial structure of a customer. I'm also a little bit of a seer in that I need to read the mood of the person. What I'm doing is helping them find their new face and that takes a certain view into who this person is. I imagine them in their day-to-day. I imagine them wanting to feel empowered or wanting to feel invisible--like the glasses don't obstruct them in any way. It's not something I take lightly, in fact, I study it. I read about it and study my calculations in my spare time.

Some days, people come into the shop and they get it. They get that what I'm doing is for their good. I want them to be happy.

Other days, I am treated like I'm low. Like I'm some shopgirl who failed at life and now, here I am, obviously dumber than the greater population because I'm working in retail.

The other day, a friend of mine, in trying to defend my choice in career, said she was upset when people put it down. But it felt kind of hollow. Maybe it's me, maybe it's my interpretation of things. But it seemed like she was just trying to say it was okay for me to settle.

Today, a friend of mine was talking about her career as an actress and how she had moved to LA as a next step and she had watched so many people "settle" for small town acting.

I told her that, maybe to them, it wasn't settling. Maybe they honestly didn't want the next step. Maybe they're happy. And she nodded politely.

Some people don't understand that if you're not reaching for the stars, you're happy. They will always look at you with a little bit of a thought that you're settling. That you could do more if you just put your mind to it. Shortly after I won the Rose Metal Chapbook competition, my friend (while we were walking fairly drunk together) told me that I needed to find some discipline in my writing. When I scoffed, he said, "oh, you have a chapbook coming out! yay!" in a way that was very much like congratulating a 14 year-old on being able to ride a bike. Nice work, but it's a little too little too late.

So, for career, I will say that I am superbly happy in my current job. The good days far outnumber the bad. And the good customers far outweigh the bad. And, most days, I am fulfilled at work.

And for writing, I will say that I always wrote as a way of communication. As an extremely lonely child/adolescent/adult, I write as a way of talking to some invisible entity. My goal never was and never has been to publish a big, fancy book, to be famous, to have name recognition, to be popular, or any of that shit. And when the expectation of all that shit was put in my face, I closed off. I stopped writing. I shut off. And I moved away to a new city. Because what I loved about writing was being pulled away from me, by people who were always asking me why I wasn't shooting for the next goal. Why wasn't I shooting for the stars? It was being pulled away by people who were so consumed with their own ideas of success they had dismissed me as a flame-out.

I've just now started writing again with any kind of joy. With any kind of feeling like I'm communicating again. I'm slowly beginning to find myself again in doing what I loved with writing, which is to do some kind of origami with feelings. To hide them behind a story and to look for that person to recognize what I'm saying.

My friend who was trying to defend my choice to work in retail, I love her. It is a friendship I hope not to fuck up like I have so many others. But what I couldn't say to her is that my life today, my life yesterday, my life for almost 30 years has had some element of letting the water roll off my back. Has been putting up with people who look at me like I'm less than them. Because I'm working in retail. Because I'm a short story writer. Because I haven't yet and I'm not going to write a fucking novel. The eyes of those who have low expectations of you are not hiding any truths.

So that's it. That's me saying I love my job and I'm fucking good at my job if you let me be good. And I'm a fucking good writer if you let me be in my own way.

Fuck novels.

*This post is called "Eye walk LA" because 1-Eye=I'm an optician, duh. and 2-I'm a carless pedestrian in LA by choice because I love walking places, not because I'm a flunky who doesn't understand cars. Let's compare carbon footprints and see who wins in that game of achievement.

October is rarin' to be awesome

2010-10-12T07:08:00.004-11:00

In the last couple of weeks I've had a lovely slew of acceptances and I'm so psyched that all of these stories will be appearing online in October, my most favorite month!

"I've Got Your Ghosts Right Here" will be in The Collagist!

I wrote this story for a Ray's Reading. The "constraint" for the night was to write about "The ghosts of Ray's" or something like that. I decided to put a little literal ghost work as well as the idea of a memory as a ghost and the ghosts of people who are still around, we just forget to notice them. I also listened to Santa Maria by The Frames A LOT while writing this. The song is based on Egon Schiele, so there are some connections there with the story.

"You remind me of that guy in the movies, the one with the eyes" will be in Precipitate!

This story was written while listening to the album "I am the West" by the band Lovers, particularly the song "How the Story Ends."

"Me and Theodore climbed to the top of the water tower because we were afraid of the tremors beneath the dirt." will be in Everyday Genius!

Originally this story was rejected, but Adam saved it from the "no" pile and moved it to the "yes" pile, thereby ensuring that I would continue to wear the small pin with the portrait of Adam's face on it. This story was written when I was feeling old and like I had lost my youth and was really sad because I realized I would never be young again.

Also, at some point, don't know when:

"Pocket Rocket" will be in the This Week portion of BLIP!

I wrote this after sitting on my porch. I walked inside. Wrote it. Posted it at Fictionaut. Meg emailed me and said she liked it. That all happened in the span of about six hours. Crazy. I'm not sure when it'll be up, but I'm psyched about it.

"On watching the 2000 movie "Where the Heart Is" starring Natalie Portman, Ashley Judd, and Stockard Channing in which Natalie Portman plays a pregnant teenager whose boyfriend abandons her at a Wal-Mart while on a cross-country trip and she then lives in the Wal-Mart until she has the baby and then the rest of the movie is about how she makes a life for herself with mild success as a photographer and a marriage to the town hottie/smarty-pants *meanwhile* the boyfriend who abandoned her gets arrested, stays a worthless drunk, loses his legs, and lives a life of regret, in short, he gets what he deserves and even though I paid ACTUAL money to see this movie when it was in theaters, and left the theater knowing the movie really only deserved, maybe, to be on Lifetime: Television for Women, the other night, when it actually was on Lifetime: Television for Women, or maybe it was on Oxygen, I don't quite remember, I do know that it was a television station "for women," I sat down and watched it, the whole thing, all the while knowing that I could be doing something like reading a book, or doing laundry, or writing a novel, or something productive like that." will be in the first Knee-Jerk print issue!

The title of the story pretty much tells the process of this piece. Also, it's about the last unicorn in the world.

Hooray for October!!

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So, here are some thoughts

2010-09-24T17:14:00.008-11:00

A while back a few stories I wrote went up on Dogzplot. I wrote these stories instead of intros for my fellow readers at my Book Release Party! The fellow readers were Caroline Picard, Natalie Edwards, and Jill Summers and they are great.

I was out of town for the last few days. I went to Louisville to visit a friend. This friend is like therapy, Prozac, home cooking, and college all rolled into one person. Seriously, some friends are just what a person needs to maintain sanity and she is one of them.

While in Louisville we went to the Peddler's Mart and I bought this bird cage:

I think I'm going to paint it black and be all goth about it.

I also bought little pots for French Onion Soup making.

It was a quick drive to Chicago. Then, once in Chicago, I was in stop-and-go traffic for an hour. People in cars are assholes.

I went to Target and bought a box of wine and sweater that I am going to return as it makes me look like a nun.

I came home and moved the box that I keep my bracelets in to the bathroom to hold my makeup. I moved the makeup box into the bedroom and filled it with bracelets. I then attempted a smokey eye:

I had also just finished watching Australia's Next Top Model. So, you know, that's my model face. Take that, Alice Burdeu.

Turns out I sent a resume to a potential employer with all the formatting lines and whatnot included. I realized this yesterday. I sent the resume two months ago. Urgh.

The lines didn't show up on my Mac, but they did show up on a PC. Is there some conspiracy to not let Mac users get jobs or something? I shall now send everything as a pdf.

Hey, guess what, I will have a story in The Collagist in October. I am muy excited about it as the story is a favorite of mine (ain't they all... I'm not exactly going to fess up to having a shitty story published... or maybe I already have). Also have a story in the upcoming Knee-Jerk print issue. I am doing cartwheels in my brain over both of these future publications as I really-super respect the editors of both. Yaaay.

Annnd. Even so. I spent the whole drive from Louisville to Chicago, as well as the hour in traffic, fantasizing about living a different kind of life. I want what I was daydreaming. And here I am at home with chipping nail polish and a giant zit on my nose and, really, how do people figure all this shit out?

Look, Mom! I'm famous!!!!!!

2010-08-11T14:41:00.002-11:00

Time Out Chicago has an overly wonderful article about me in this week's issue. Read it quick! This week's news is tomorrow's cat litter liner!!!

Good words good times

2010-08-10T06:10:00.002-11:00

Some nice words out there about "We Know What We Are"

Check 'em out:

Emerging Writers Network

Chicago Now/Chicago Subtext

Prints 'n' prints

2010-08-10T06:05:00.003-11:00

For the grand Printer's Ball o' Chicago, 20 writers teamed up with 20 printmakers. The writers gave the printmakers a story and an object and the printmaker took that and made ..... a print!
Here's the result of my story "She has an ache" and the handiwork of Dan Grzeca

Everything about the Printer's Ball this year, before during and after, was surreal.

Sharps

2010-08-10T06:02:00.001-11:00

Saw this is the ladies room of all the rest stops on my way to Cleveland a couple of weeks ago. My friend said they're for diabetics. I said they're for heroin addicts

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My Chicago Weekend

2010-07-29T09:48:00.002-11:00

Tuesday:

Some creepy dude drinking beer and standing in the alley outside my apartment. Made me wish I lived in Vermont or some such quiet place.

Wednesday:

We had to evacuate our bus b/c some guy covered in bugs decided to ride. Lice? Bedbugs? Ants? I didn't see them myself, which maybe makes it worse.

Thursday:

Walked by two guys sharing a bottle of whiskey on the sidewalk this afternoon. Guy #1 says "Hey hey hey, you wearing panties?" Guy #2 says, "Don't say that! Don't say that! You're rude! She's a lady! You're rude!" I was very tempted to turn around and propose marriage to Guy #2.

Yaaaaaay!

2010-07-21T12:22:00.001-11:00

I have a page on the Rose Metal Press catalogue!!!!

Go Here to order yours today!!!

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I think I have an ear infection. It feels like a family of pain monsters are living inside my face and eating my brain. I am miserable.

2010-07-20T12:31:00.003-11:00

ch-ch-ch-check it out!

2010-07-18T11:34:00.003-11:00

Ba da!

The wonderful minds at Rose Metal Press have sent me the cover image for my book! I'm so ridiculously excited about this.

2010-06-30T03:58:00.002-11:00

Hey!

Everyone seems to be receiving their contributor copies of Best of the Web, where's mine?!

I'm so looking forward to reading all the stories in there! I know that summer has just begun, but I need my summer reading and, from what I hear, the BOTW 2010 is huge.

Also.

I'm drafting in my head a post for Third Face about this whole idea of "best" and why it's a bunch of hooey.

Also.

I got some lovely news from Molly Gaudry a little while ago. See that note on the right of the page? The one about a WWP chapbook in 2011? Yup. I'm bouncing off the walls.

Pumpkinhead

2010-06-22T06:41:00.006-11:00

When I was a very little kid, my dad called me pumpkinhead. I don't know why, I have a fairly average-shaped head. I did some Googling and found that it was an insult for those of obvious Polish descent. I am of Polish descent, but it ain't obvious. I think he just liked the way it sounded to say Pumpkinhead.

My friend was this for Halloween one year and wore a real Pumpkin on her head.

I've been pretty absorbed in teaching (3 classes), working (full-time, doncha know), and blogging other places (like this and this, which I'm totally psyched about).

I feel like by the time I get to this blog I'm either low and depressed or tired and just feel like I need to type something. So let's go with option 1 (and a touch of 2), shall we?

It's becoming more frequent that I feel the decisions I've made, particularly those based on instinct, were super-wrong. Like, wow, wrong road chosen wrong.

I'm trying to get some balance back in my brain, but this summer is a teeter-totter rusting from the base.

yay! fun! blog!

I'm on a plane

2010-05-16T07:52:00.001-11:00

Sitting on a plane in the last row. My sinuses are making my head feel like my brain is too big for my skull.

I'm thinking about my future and thinking that me present is pretty much stuck so the next step needs to be something that leads somewhere.

At least my seat is by the window, we need to keep an eye on these silver linings.

I'm thinking about my present and the situations of people I know and I don't know how people continue to believe in god and love. I'm just saying....

I'm on a plane. I'm sitting in the last row. I'm going to be on this plane for at least 4 hours. For the second time in 50 hours, an infant is in front of me on a plane. On a plane.

Things is, I still prefer this to being in a room full of people I know with no one to talk to and nothing to say.

My brain feels like it's pushing out my skin. Springtime is for dizzy.

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Street Lights

2010-05-07T18:53:00.001-11:00

I know he got a lot of shit for it, but Kanye's "808 and heartbreak" album pretty much says everything all the time.

You ever feel like you're living the wrong life in the wrong time? Yeah, me too.

The funny thing about those of who feel that way, we all feel all kinds of all alone, but if there's some source of, what's the word I want?, not empathy, comraderie(!), then we mist not be alone.

So there is this need to create something that connects and says, "I know, this shit is real for me too."

Most days, writing isn't enough. I can say everything in a story, but the situation remains the same.

What to do?
What to say?
What to write?
Another story that says, "I feel fucking lost?"
That gets the ache out, but then here we are in this same situation of feeling stuck in a world that wasn't made for us.

What makes it worse is being aware of the fact that this messy, dirty, cruel world is populated by people in far worse situations than our own and these whollyhuman feelings become even more reason to despair. Being aware of one's own egotism sucks.

So sing it, Kanye. I'm gonna listen and know that you're singing my brain in your auto-tuned voice.

Because as I know there's a poplation (populations) out there hurting more than me, you must know there's a me here, in Chicago, listening to you. And what can we do, but reach out a hand and say, "I know, shit stinks," in our own way, from our own point if view?

Life's laughing at all of us.

Bus stop blues

2010-05-03T14:02:00.001-11:00

Look at me, blogging again.

I downloaded an app so I can blog on the go, hoping this will increase my productivity here.

I have a new story up at Monkeybicycle. The funny thing is, as I was reading it, online and in its published form, I was driven to revision. So, I have a revised version of the story hanging out on my computer. I think I flew too soon on that one. Ah well, what're you gonna do?

In other news, some guy openly budged in front of me in line at the Jewel. I made a point to "harumph" loudly. I hate having to remind others that I exist.

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MOON

2010-03-18T16:39:00.002-11:00

I have a new story up at PANK

It's an online story because I'm not safe for paper.

http://www.pankmagazine.com/?p=1538

I "exercised" yesterday by doing that game on the wii where you're dressed like a bird and you try to fly to a boat.

And then I got thinking about boats

So now I am in the couch watching "The Deadliest Catch."

My brain seems to have been put on permanent pause

2010-02-19T18:35:00.003-11:00

Lordy, things may have been easier a couple of months ago when I was convinced my writing was going nowhere and I should

A) Devote myself to writing crime novels with a strong female detective who takes no bull from no one! and solves crimes with an effortless ease.

B) Devote myself to saving enough money so I could move to some foreign land and change my name to Stacy and work in a coffee shop until I die in a freak matchstick accident.

Things got thrown off track when I got some encouragement regarding the writing I had done previous to this life crisis (Sorry I keep mentioning it....)

So, silly me, I thought this would propel me into writerly greatness! I would jump back in to the game with both feet! I would write stories again!

That was several weeks ago and aside from a couple of awesome ideas bouncing around in my head, I can't seem to figure out how to sit down and, well, write.

Something in my head is reassuring me, telling me it's like riding a bike. You never forget....the thing is, I never really learned to ride a bike.

I mean, I used to own a bike (two actually, both were left in the basements of apartment buildings) and I rode them around. On sidewalks. Slowly. Convinced I would be hit by a car (and living in Chicago, that's not such a silly thought as it happens much too often in this city).

So, what to do, what to do...... I don't know.

I feel very stuck right now. I feel torn between the weight of some imagined expectations and the weight of no one even noticing if I've published lately or not (not).

I feel overwhelmed by the amount of stuff in my apartment.

I feel overwhelmed by the routine of my week.

I'm tired of seeing the same buildings on the bus ride to work.

I've been sleeping as much as possible and I have to say, it's the highlight of my day because I dream real good and those dreams are never the same, never routine, never weighted down by all that makes every day so heavy.

I think I need to sell all of my belongings and find a good home for my cats. I think I need to reduce my necessities to a sturdy shoulder bag and go wandering, free of name and family and expectations self-put and otherwise.

But, that's what dreams are for, and writing, yes? To escape this monotony and suffocation. So.

I suppose I'll put my faith in that muscle memory that allows me to play certain songs on the piano with my eyes closed after years away from practice. That allows me to type as fast as I love to type.

Is it so bad to relax and wait for some moment when I don't feel burdened by the expectation to create something? Is it so bad to close my eyes to the expectation of progress and to sleep for an extra few minutes? To indulge in these moments that are mine and mine alone? Is it so bad to not be a writer who chains herself to her desk every morning, but instead to be a writer who *Really* enjoys a good cup of coffee and a lazy hot shower every morning?

Methinks not.

Something something something something something something something something

2010-02-01T19:15:00.003-11:00

Sometimes my students say, "I work a lot, so I didn't get blah blah done."

I stop myself. Because I want to tell them that "working a lot" is no excuse. If they voluntarily sign up for my class, it is their fault, not mine, if they don't have time to do the work. They know all that by the way I shift my eyes to the next student.

I stop myself from speaking my own woe-is-me b.s.

I work three jobs.
Plus the whole QUICKIES! stuff.
Plus TripleQuick, which I should really devote more me to, seriously, I'm a slacker and a hypocrite.

And I have plenty of time to master MarioKart, up my typing wpm, and Google myself (if you're checking your blog/site stats and someone found you by Googling "mary hamilton"+"fiction" or some combination like that....it was me).

And I have a "social life." In quotations because I don't know that any person who has devoted as much time as I have to upping my typing wpm can really consider themselves any kind of social butterfly.

All to say, cut the crap and do the work.

I bought my tickets to AWP today. I'm sharing a hotel room with Amelia Gray, Lindsay Hunter, and Jac Jemc. I think we've pretty much guaranteed that we're the Destiny's child circa 1999 of AWP Denver.

Destiny's Child - Bug a Boo
Uploaded by xtina2442. - Explore more music videos.

ISBN what?

2010-01-27T16:17:00.002-11:00

I just realized that an ISBN number is in my future. Whoa, dude.

I know this blog has been a sad animal the past many months. Well, so goes the mood, so goes the blog.

This heart-raising good news came just in time, I think. For a long while, I had been feeling that my writing wasn't what others would want to read. I didn't think my stories were enough of whatever it is that is going on in writing right now. Don't ask me to define that, I don't know. But I did feel that my voice just wasn't as loud and persistent as those around me. I always sat in the back of the class.

And I felt like I wasn't reading what others were reading. I didn't talk the same. I didn't have the same drive or goals.

So I got sad and I posted a couple of sad posts on this blog. And then, whattya know?! Someone read and liked my stories and, somehow, my work stood out for a bright and shining minute. And then I saw that the announcement from Rose Metal linked to this here depressing blog. Oh, I am sorry for that.

And then, funny thing, my friend called me a few days ago and told me her mom had been reading my blog and was worried. Don't worry, friend's mom, I'm okay.

Now, it is time to call my dad and wish him Happy Birthday! Yaaaaay!!!!!

Yaaaaaayyyyyy

2010-01-20T08:44:00.003-11:00

Rosemetal Press has just made a lovely announcement and, contrary to the normal tone of this blog, I Am Happy About It! Yaaaaaaayyyyyyyy.

What they said was that my chapbook, "We Know What We Are" won their annual chapbook contest! I'm so happy!

The SPAM persists

2010-01-17T15:12:00.003-11:00

I knew I said "Viagra" too many times in that last post.

I got some good news this week. I wish it was enough to make me happy without thinking of reasons not to be happy. God, I'm such a pill.

I have recently fallen madly in love with the work of Egon Schiele.

That is all.

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I'm back

2009-12-16T13:53:00.004-11:00

Apparently it's not ok to take a three month break from writing about yourself.

I was gone. And now I'm back. I didn't go anywhere, just got to working too much and not sleeping and, you know, a blog was the last thing on my mind.

And then, I guess because my blog became "inactive," I started getting those spam comments about Viagra and stuff and they all go to my inbox, which is annoying. And now that I wrote "Viagra" (twice) I'll probably get more of those comments. Sigh.

So, how to stop the SPAM? blog, I suppose.

Why no bloggy lately?

No writey lately, that's why.

I've been pretty sick of the game.

and pretty sick of me

Everything is a game, it's bringing me down.

I'm tired.

up, up, and away

2009-09-09T09:55:00.003-11:00

I like this paragraph. It may be my favorite still:

If the world revolved around us, would we redefine the galaxy and be two stars burning side by side? Or would we be one light; spitting flame until we self-destruct and float in darkness? Content, but cold, searching the universe for a world that revolves around a star and not an ego or two; relieving us of the burden of godliness and gravity.

But the story, as I look back at it, kind of sucks.

Kanye West "Welcome to Heartbreak (feat. Kid Cudi)" (et musique pour tous)

in my own little corner

2009-08-28T14:50:00.003-11:00

"Never Ever" finally has a home. I love this story. I love that Barry gave it a place to cuddle up and sleep-in.

Read it at Dogzplot

I'm feeling completely useless today.

Heartless Bastards, "Out to Sea" (Hear Ya!)

Boy-o Joy-o

2009-08-16T05:15:00.005-11:00

People seem to be liking my story up at Wigleaf.

It is true that me and Theodore swallowed Pop Rocks and Pepsi Cola and now we are dead.

Kathy Fish gave me a shout-out on Facebook and I nearly fell on my face. Sometimes, my only verbal response to things is to go "gfrfable."

Also, returned home last night to find this in my mailbox.

It looks great. Subscribe HERE!

It's sooo affordable.

and also, when it rains, it pours, you know.

Noo 10!!! out now!!! includes my story, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but me and Theodore built a time machine." It also has prose by Bonnie ZoBell (I think her name should have an exclamation point, here we go:) Bonnie ZoBell!, Beth Thomas, Crispin Best, Kim Chinquee, Jen Gann, Karen Gentry, Rebecah Pulsifer, and Matt Bell. Also, has poetry and stuff. Go. Now.

Just got back from the Orange Alert Reading at the Whistler (having just read this week's NY Times magazine, I wonder what Jason will do if they get rid of the orange alerts). Jon Fullmer represented. Margaret Chapman blew the roof off. I played a "name that tune" trivia game. We cheated and I lost, but they still gave me a prize. I feel special.

Tomorrow Lindsay Hunter reads at the Hungry Brain. I am positive that is going to rock rock rock.

Orba Squara, "Poker Face (Lady Gaga cover)" (inkiostro)

thingz is thingz

2009-08-09T04:25:00.002-11:00

I'm pretty psyched about this.

Yup, if you scroll down the page, you'll see my name next to a little box that says "buy" as in "buy" my chapbook.

While you're there, buy a subscription.

Solid Gold, "Bible Thumper" (The Burning Ear)

Well shoot.

2009-08-02T15:21:00.005-11:00

I have a story up at the new and shiny Knee-Jerk Magazine.

Read it Here.

I have also lately been feeling like someone else has been living my life and I'm all trapped in a tower somewhere watching the activity in a crystal ball and I'm all "what the hell are you doing?!"

I actually feel like this *all. the. time.*

I was just working on the palindrome and found that flipped around, one of the passages goes:

...wanted you. What this is?!

a ha ha ha, it's a tour thing.

Seriously though, this took an hour:

Sky big. Under it, living me. Need this. Have to. Then, I was wrong.

(flip it)

Wrong, was I then, to have this need: me, living it under big sky.

I'm gonna go watch "Law and Order" while I pummel the NY Times crossword puzzle. Yeah, I said it.

So Many Dynamos! "In Every Direction" (Tympanogram Music Blog)

the way I vanced with you

2009-07-23T16:42:00.015-11:00

Went to the Newberry Library Book Fair today. Bought three books for four dollars. Promptly got rained on sufficiently warping pages of books. Fine by me.

People at the Book Fair were weird.

People everywhere are weird.

I wish I could change everything.

---

I promised a tour re-cap and dammit!

I had a great time on this tour. Can't even come close to talking all about it. To my van mates: Zach, Aaron, Amelia, Jac, Caroline, Blake, and Patrick--you are all kind of super awesome and you make me wanna do the ham face till I die. For real.

And big love to our guest readers, who in every city brought a whole lot of class, style, and nifty words.

I'm gonna do it like this, with pictures, because there's been a lot of Internet in my face today and my eyes are tired.

This is the van. We spent more than 5000 miles in this van. I can't believe I'm saying this, but love and miss the van.

While Zach was putting gas in the van, I found this in the driver's side door. Can you believe it!? (I only brought two books for the road, one of them was a biography of Abraham Lincoln.)

The Nashville show was really last minute and of our audience of 10, we knew 8 people and 5 of us were readers. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but not by much.

Can you believe it?!?!?!?! (At a honky tonk club in Nashville!!!)

We stopped at Willie's Place (Willie Nelson themed and owned truck stop) and got some bio-diesel fuel for the van. I made a new friend.

Shortly after we lost half our a/c, the gang decided to stop for bbq. I watched them eat and then made them take me to Subway. The guy who made the bbq sandwiches was very....mellow.

I cried in the LBJ museum. Then we went upstairs and Zach asked the guard, "Where's the robot?" He directed us to this: an animatronic LBJ who tells jokes. Do you think, while he was president, that LBJ ever thought this would exist?

I read a story out loud in Austin. The crowd seemed to like it. I liked them back.

Austin was great. Big crowd. Awesome crowd. We were so happy then....

Snack pack was the first to discover the Love Loft. He was quite emotionally attached to that space.

Gene Morgan read with us in Houston. I really liked his outfit.

I didn't take a ton of pictures in Houston, but it was fun: Absinthe, Elissa letting us sleep on every bit of floor in her apartment, Zach and I hosting the show completely sleep deprived.

I also didn't take many pictures in New Orleans. I was busy making memories. I loved New Orleans.

In Atlanta, we spent the afternoon swimming. (From the bottom: Blake, me, Snack Pack, Zach, Jac)

After our reading a band called Lyonnais played with their backs to the audience. Amelia and I did not approve so we went out side and pulled up some chairs and watched the show. After the music stopped, we put our hands on the glass and the lead singer put his hands on the glass on the other side and we shared a moment.

Caroline approves of moments.

Somewhere in Virginia we ate at the Nottoway Restaurant. The ham face was born.

On the road from Atlanta to Baltimore, we read ghost stories to each other in the van. My favorite was when Caroline read "The Hook" in a drunk Scottish accent.

I think I'm cool. Snack pack, apparently, does not agree.

This is our venue in Baltimore. Ain't it amazing?! See that trapeze bar there? In the middle of the pic? Yeah, I hung from that.

After our Baltimore show, some lovely people let us come over for some drinks. We had a lot of drinks. Our hosts also had two adorable kittens. Sometimes they would wander into the kitchen and because they were so small, I was worried someone would step on them, thus forcing me to pick them up and give them a good cuddle.

In Baltimore, we stayed in this house. It was really big. Our hostess was really nice. A one-eyed cat lives in this house. The cat is also really nice.

Caroline left us in Baltimore. We were all very very sad about it.

After Baltimore we went to New York. It was kind of lame. I could really, happily, live the rest of my life without a hipster telling me that I absolutely *have* to go to a party in Williamsburg because it's like nothing else on earth.

On our way out of the city, we were stuck in a traffic jam. I gave my ipod to the cause and we vanced to some Girl Talk. For real.

When we got to Philly, we were tired. Luckily CC was our hostess. She has an aura of calm that I find very comforting. She is great. This is her porch. She always has the best porches!!!

One of the stories Snack Pack read throughout the tour required him to remove his shirt.

At some point in the night, everyone wanted cheesesteak. Except me, I wanted pizza. Cheesesteak won. I got cheese fries which I feel were a more than satisfying substitute.

Who's throwin' dirt?

In Boston, Blake read a story that made everyone blush.

Those are two of my favorite pictures, ever.

Blake left us in Boston, we took pictures by the van because it just seemed to be the thing to do.

Then we went to Walden and were all sad and contemplative.

In Boston we also gained a Patrick Somerville and we were happy again.

Shane Jones read with us in Albany. They misspelled his name on the poster as Shanke Jones. I like the sound of that and I think he should keep it as his performance name. He also let us all sleep in his apartment and then he woke up at 5am to make us coffee. I am glad good things are happening for him.

In Ann Arbor, Amelia wore the Yaky Perm Pony and all seemed right.

No Amelia, we did not. If anything, we didn't go far enough. Here's to next year and speedballin' another 5000 miles!!!

Willy Mason "Careless Whisper (Wham! cover)" (Zeon's Music Blog)

throwin' dirt

2009-07-17T13:55:00.006-11:00

Just returned home from the epic tour.

It wrecked me and it rejuvenated me and it twisted my brain and it broke my heart to say goodbye.

I should be happy to be home. Was so exhausted by the end. Was full of whiskey and beer and food made by strangers.

Had leg cramps and greasy hair.

Wore the same clothes over and over and by the end felt like a block of nasty ass lard.

And already I miss it. Miss the people and being with them always.

I was nervous about that--being around people all the time.

Now I miss it.

Wish I had someone to hug every now and then, like I did for the last two weeks.

Funny faces and shoulders to lean on.

Breakdowns and good times.

And the words the words the words.

People wrote shit in the van that made me want to be rocket ship so I could jump as high as I felt about it all.

At some point, will break it down city by city.

Gonna go cry now.

Sad face.

Rick Ross "Hustlin' " (Palms Out Sound)

wuzza wha?!

2009-06-27T17:05:00.003-11:00

You know how sometimes an actor from a TV show will be on a late night talk show and they'll tell the host that they themselves do not actually watch TV and the host is all "But you're on a TV show! That's your job! You're ridiculous!"

I find that, more often than not lately, I've been getting really sick of words.

My tolerance is low.

Lazy writing don't float in my boat.

If I get bored, I stop reading.

I rarely finish reading something that I've started.
But when I do finish reading whatever I am happy about it.

Before, when I just finished books or stories that bored me or that I felt I had to work through, the last page left me feeling cheated and vengeful.

That's why I don't stand for shit.

No more miss nice m.lady

From now on I'm gonna be loud about it.

I'm an asshole.

**transition**

Come out to one of the shows on our reading TOUR!

Hypocrite, far right.

thingzes

2009-06-25T17:03:00.005-11:00

First, there's this:

I have a story in the current Smokelong

weeeee!

Then, there's this:

We're going on Tour!!!!!

wa-hoooo!!!!

And, finally, I have one of these!

My electric bill is going to be ridic.

.

pthhhhbt

2009-06-15T20:42:00.001-11:00

Ellie Goulding "The Wolves (Bon Iver cover)" (Anyone's Guess)

truth squad

2009-06-01T17:38:00.013-11:00

Given the choice, I would spend the rest of my days in my pajamas, eating ice cream (mint chocolate chip) and watching tv.

There I said it.

I am not ashamed.

************

Today, in class, we were discussing a Lydia Davis story. One of my students said she couldn't get on board because in the first sentence the narrator says that she has fallen in love with a man who has been dead for several years. I didn't say it out loud, but in my mind I was thinking:

hey.

************

Given the choice, I would be married to ?uestlove:

maybe.

************

The drawback of "spring" (I say "spring" because it is maybe 50 degrees outside) is that my window is open and I can hear my neighbors being stupid and I don't know if they're kidding or if someone is going to get shot.

************

I am obsessed with this song:

Amadou and Mariam, "Sabali" (Syntheticrocks)

I want to build a house out of bricks made out of this song and pile the bricks up so they block the windows and doors and I'm trapped inside, starving to death on the sound of this song.

************

I conjured a spirit today. Maybe it was a vision. All of it was a mistake.

************

I'm really liking Portugal. The Man

************

I spend a lot of time looking forward to sleeping, but then when it gets to be nighttime, I can't close my eyes and I stay awake until 2 or 3am and then when my alarm goes off, I curl up into a ball and cover my head with the blankets and I pretend that I am a blade of grass and I don't need to be anywhere but exactly where I am.

************

Today a moth clung to my jacket and I shook to make it fly away and then I thought how it must feel to cling to someone only to have them shake you off.

************

The other day when I was doing laundry I passed a *big* spider in the hall. He/she was chillin' on the wall and I said, "Spider, I won't kill you if you promise not to go into my apartment." Later, when I was bringing my laundry back up, the spider had moved very much closer to my door and I said, "Dammit! Spider! We had a deal!" but I didn't want to kill the spider, so I took my electric bill and I just kind of propelled it off the wall and down the stairs. I hope it survived the fall.

************

Yesterday, on the bus, the man next to me snored for three blocks.

************

Once, when I was on the bus, as I was waiting for the doors to open, the driver paused and asked me if I was okay. I must've looked real sad.

************

Apparently, "must've" is not a word.

************

Once, the train conductor stopped the train for me and that still makes me happy.

************

The highlight of my week: Mrs Bobo climbed her way onto the couch to hang out. I didn't have to coax her or hold her down and pet her saying "good girl! happy!"

************

I think that's enough for now.

************

uncanny.
and also why I watched the "Dead Like Me" movie and season 2 of "Secret Diary of a Call Girl"

I know, right?

diva ga ga

2009-05-25T06:00:00.003-11:00

Crazy week of craziness is over. Took the optician test. Read (a story about cruise ship performing conjoined twins) at Quickies. Read (a story about a teddy bear getting a colonic) at the Dollar Store (while wearing a turban).

Saw the great Jill Summers kick booty at the Literary Death Match.

And now, I was able to enjoy the morning and spend some serious time contacting venues in New Orleans and DC for the BIG TOUR!!!!

I hope they write back. I feel like I'm online dating.

Huge, amazing news from the land of Jac Jemc. Dzanc is going to publish her book!!!!!! (in 2012, why-oh-why do I have to wait so long for these amazing books?! They're publishing a collection of Rober Lopez's short stories in 2010, sigh).

********

So I was walking to work the other day, all excited for Jac, and all excited for the BIG TOUR, when I had a stupid, but bumming out thought: almost everyone I know has a book either published or about to be published. sigh.

It's not like I've never considered the idea of a book of my own. Sometimes when I'm in a bookstore, I'll go to the "H" section and find where my name would go on the shelf. But it was never the big goal. Never the final destination of my mind.

I guess I'm also feeling bleh, because people around me more and more have been talking to me like writing is a cute hobby of mine, like decopage or knitting. Fuck.

I don't know. I've sort of realized that most of my focus has always been on the individual story and just trying to get it on the page because it's in my head and I feel like it deserves to exist and if someone decides to put in in their journal, awesome. But I've never looked at these stories and said, now what are you going to do for me? Maybe I should.

What I should do is stop shitting around looking at pictures of prehistoric creatures on the internet. Maybe I should get off the couch and go to my desk and write something with the intent of making it something real. Not because I want to catch up with everyone else, but because if one more person talks to me about writing as if it is my hobby I just might jump off some bridge somewhere. Either that or I'll move to France and become a cobbler.

shut me up, i'm being stupid.

Stereolab, "Emperor Tomato Ketchup" (Quiet color)

We have one eye so we must be twins

2009-05-17T14:39:00.003-11:00

Took the optician test this morning.

Walking into the room I felt more prepared than I have for any test ever before.

10 questions in, I found myself thinking "I have never seen this word before in my life ever...."

ahhh, balls.

I've spent a good portion of my spare time and all of my days off for the last month putting of most things so that I could study. I did save time for documentaries and for learning the chords to "Patience" on the gee-tar. A girl has to have priorities after all.

I've been pretty antsy mostly because I have some story ideas in my brain and haven't had the time/energy/brain power to write them down.

Good thing I'm doing two readings this week and need to write something S.T.A. George is John Doe T.

Other things I now am going to do with my spare time:

Learn a foreign language
Pick up my slack and do my share of the work on the BIG TOUR
Take my cats to the vet
Learn to make pie
Finish the damn palindrome
sleep
Take out the garbage
Laundry
Get a library card (I know, I know)
eat chocolate chips

But first, and perhaps most importantly, I am going to do a little sway dance while I whistle along to this awesomeness:

I also think we should take a moment to share this:

.

Balls

2009-05-13T15:48:00.004-11:00

Somehow I've taken to saying "balls" every time I mess something up. I've been studying for the optician certification exam and every time I get a review question wrong "balls.

Every time I goof up or forget something "balls."

When a filling in my molar fell out "balls."

When I miss the bus "balls."

When I took the SATs, I was still working on the math section with the moderator said, "TIME" and I said, "SH*T!"

I imagine myself taking the optician exam on Sunday, the Lord's day, and the moderator saying, "TIME!" and me shouting, "BALLS!"

anyway.

Two readings this week:

QUICKIES! (of course)
and
THE DOLLAR STORE (the secret's out)

.

Can you keep a what? what?

2009-05-10T03:42:00.003-11:00

Super

secret

secret

secret

Super!

Toadies, "Possum Kingdom" (The Days of Lore)

always the bridesmaid

2009-05-06T14:09:00.002-11:00

Good and bad tidings today.

Good is, I'm on Wigleaf's long short list for their top 50 stories of 2009 (not just stories published in Wigleaf, it's for stories published all over this great Internet of ours) and that makes me feel good.

Bad is, I didn't make the top 50 list. If this is anything like how I felt when I was waitlisted for 3 colleges back in the day, I like to think I came in 51st.

Check out all 250 stories here. Without me, Wigleaf would just be aweso.

.

youth is wasted on, oh forget it

2009-04-30T14:32:00.003-11:00

Yay!

I have a story up at Storyglossia.

I am super-psyched to be part of this journal.

Read it here.

Del McCoury Band, "What's Make Milwaukee Famous (Has Made a Loser Out of Me)" (Largehearted Boy)

forgettable, that's what you are....

2009-04-24T15:04:00.002-11:00

I sometimes really like making myself a complicated dinner all from scratch. And then, when I sit down to eat, I look at the plate and think, what was all the effort for? And more often than not, I put the dinner in tupperware in the freezer and I eat cereal or chocolate chips for dinner.

Have you ever been tempted to join a cult? And if you approached one voluntarily, do you think they would take you?

There are about 7 billion people on this planet. Feeling special or unique is rare and maybe even stupid.

I'm on a new honesty kick. No, not so new anymore, I'm just sick of saying "I'm fine."

I'm getting dumber by the minute.

.

New Project

2009-04-16T03:52:00.002-11:00

Shoot. I feel like throwing in the towel.

I have a new project. I'm going to "tweet" a story every day.

I was going to cancel my Twitter account because why do I have a Twitter account?

But then, I don't know.

check it out.
The link is over there on the right -->

Peanuts, "Don't Give Up, Charlie Brown" (Popdose)

The most horrible sound in the world is that of a talk show audience full of woman whooping and screaming.
.

Is it breaking and entering if you have a key?

2009-04-03T13:08:00.005-11:00

About a month ago I got myself a new apartment. I really wanted this new apartment for many reasons and was willing to deal with the one month overlap between new apartment and old apartment ( = double rent).

Because I had so much time to move and the new apartment was/is literally across the street from my old apartment, I decided to move myself. Down three flights of stairs, across the street, and up three flights of stairs. My friend Jac helped me move my futon mattress and my bookshelf and my friend Zach helped me move my dresser, my futon, and my dining room table. Everything else, my sad arms moved.

Now, after a solid month of moving, I had a day to myself. A day to do whatever I wanted to do. I sent a whole mass of stories to a whole mass of journals. I got a haircut. I did laundry. I ate some cheese. I took pictures of my new apartment:

Bob likes to lounge.

I like roller skates.

Our Lady of the icky radiator.

Stuff I like.

I also remembered that I forgot my bike in the basement of my old building. Der.

Barenaked Ladies, "The Old Aparment" (Troubled Souls Unite)

Also, just for kicks, I choose to close with the video for "Alternative Girlfriend" by The Barenaked Ladies cuz I ain't afraid to say I think it's funny and very early 90s-like.

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.joost.com/08202cc/t/Barenaked-Ladies-Warner-Bros-1000-Alternative-Girlfriend-Video-Version"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Barenaked Ladies - Warner Bros. (1000) - Alternative Girlfriend (Video Version)&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

.

If there's a smile on my face Don't let my glad expression Give you the wrong impression Don't let this smile I wear Make you think that I don't care

2009-03-27T13:15:00.003-11:00

How to make a clown: an ode to Bull Shannon

A clown has a lot of curly hair that is never combed into a respectable form. A clown wears his hair like a halo surrounding his face. Sprouting from his skin like unruly light. His hair, his halo, I mean, is his way of getting close to Heaven.

Clowns put their best face forward. That's why the make-up. They put thick layers of foundation and concealer on their skin so no one sees their pores and realizes that the clown might be a human too. Clowns are fans of blush and lipstick. Clowns never really learned how to apply the make-up correctly, so they just smear it all over their faces. That way, instead of thinking the clown was serious in their attempt to wear make-up, people will be in on the joke with the clown. Because it is silly. Wearing make-up like that.

Clowns wear silly outfits with big buttons and short pants. Clowns wear big shoes and when someone steps on the their ridiculously big shoes, clowns go "ouch!" to make the people laugh, because, oh my gosh, no real person could ever have feet so big. This is how the clown tells you, "I am not a real person. I am a clown."

Clowns do tricks, like making balloon animals, to make the people like them.

When clowns go home. They take off the hair, it is just a wig you know. And they wash their faces of the make-up. They take off their silly clothes and put on jeans and very big sweatshirts. When clowns go home, they check their answering machines and they don't have messages, because when people call them, they are surprised that it is the clown's real name and real voice on the recording and not that of the happy, silly clown.

When clown's go home, they drink red wine and as they are eating dinner, they are afraid that they will choke on a piece of toast and the clown is afraid that it will take some time for the people to realize that the clown hasn't been to work for a few days. When a clown tells the people this fear, they laugh because they think it is part of his act.

Clowns are reliable for one thing: being a clown. If you know a clown, remind them of this. It will save everyone a whole lot of time.

Smokey Robinson (Action Jacks remix) "Tears of a Clown" (Grand Panda)

If I never loved I never would have cried.

2009-03-08T13:42:00.006-11:00

I don't like the power that other people have.

They can make you feel real good and then they can turn that around and make you feel like a steaming pile of poop.

You need them to feel accepted.

You need them to feel accomplished.

You need them to feel likeable.

You need them to feel loveable.

You need them to feel balanced.

Other people can look at you sideways and make you feel like a lame-o loser.

Other people point out the flaws you have already tattooed all over your face.

It is very easy to disappoint other people.

Apologies don't mean shit unless other people accept them (apologies don't mean shit anymore anyway, it seems. Someone should let Sesame Street know that).

Other people can make you feel completely helpless.

You need other people to help you move furniture.

You need them to lean on.

They're great when the weather's nice, but when it starts to rain, most of them take off for higher ground and then you're stuck standing in an ever deepening puddle and fuck if you don't need other people to send you a lifeline.

Other people have so much power, it ain't right.

I feel like I am only okay in writing and even then, I am rejected 98% of the time.

I feel like the more you get to know me, the more you want to kick me out of the moving car and never see me again.

It would be better if my voice stopped sounding and my ears stopped hearing and it would be much better if I could move this damn couch by myself.

So, could someone please nominate either my Eclectica story, "I am so into you," or my Thieves Jargon holiday story "Me and Theodore dress up like Eskimos while we roast chestnuts on a hotplate," for a Million Writers award? I'd do it myself, but then they'd know that I nominated my own story and isn't that so sad.

Here's the story from Eclectica.

Here's the story from Thieves Jargon

Here's how to nominate.

I was going to nominate Lindsay Hunter's Hobart Story. It's amazing. But the minimum length for a Million Writers story is 1000 words and Lindsay's story is 983 words.

So I'm going to nominate her Thieves Jargon story instead. It is 1131 words.

Brandi Carlisle, "Shadow on the wall." (Bag of Songs)

flotsam/jetsam/pttthbt

2009-02-19T16:51:00.002-11:00

First, to say that AWP was amazing. I didn't sleep for four days and ended up being so tired on Sunday that I put Teriyaki sauce on my pancakes. Anyway, I learned stuff about short short fiction and I heard some amazing readings, holy crap, QUICKIES! was amazing.

Now, there's lot's of moving (away) going on, there's always a lot of moving (away) going on.

Perhaps that's why I write about me and Theodore, cuz he'll always be around.

That's all, just thinking.

Pete and the Pirates, "Moving" (Sound Bites)

Abe Lincoln's 200th birthday is on Thursday and I just ate a block of cheese

2009-02-10T17:23:00.004-11:00

My story, "Johnny will." is *live!* at JMWW.

I really like this story, it's one of my favorites.

It's a villanelle but it ain't no poem.

No one listens to poetry.

Heartless Bastards, "The Mountain" (Music Under Fire)

famus

2009-02-02T17:54:00.004-11:00

my sister from anotha mutha (and fatha)

Jason at Orange Alert was cool enough to ask me to do a little interview with him for his kick ass blog.

Check it out here.

And visit What to Wear During an Orange Alert at their new digs!

Oh My Goodness, "I'm a Big Rock Star" (alonetone)

Where do babies come from?

2009-01-27T09:23:00.002-11:00

"Me and Theodore dress up like Eskimos while we roast chestnuts on a hotplate."

Sia, "Buttons (css remix)"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but Me and Theodore built a time machine." (forthcoming in Noo Journal)

Nancy Sinatra, "Bang Bang"

"Hey There Stranger, Come on Over and Hold My Hand"

"The Good the Bad and the Lovely"

Josh Ritter, "Me and Jiggs"

"Sometimes Me and Theodore Huxtable Pretend like We Are Nico and Jackson Browne"

Nico, "Somewhere There's a Feather"

"In which me and Theodore re-enact the final scene from "Ice Castles," the 1978 motion picture co-starring Robby Benson and Lynn-Holly Johnson"

Melissa Manchester, "Theme from Ice Castles"

"I am so into you"

Famlay f/ Clipse, "No Time for Nos" (I can't find a link, but the song is a-ma-zing)

"Flash Flicker Fire"

"I Got Your Back (Interlude for the Be-Fri)"

Mos Def, "Umi Says"

Miss America Pageant. You got it wrong again.

2009-01-24T18:24:00.007-11:00

While watching tonight's broadcast of the Miss America Pageant, I wrote some observations, I put them on Twitter, but I thought I'd put them here too, with pictures!.

What? Are you surprised that I watched the Miss America Pageant? Well, then, you crazy. I've watched almost every year since I was 4. It gives me inspiration for my writing and story telling. That and laughter is good for the soul.

Now, sit back, relax, and try to follow along:

watching miss America

it ain't what it used to be

they all got their jeans at LLBean

It's Miss Hawaii's to lose

Miss California is the poor man's Posh (bankrupt). Damn, I'm mean when I'm hungry

Nevermind, Miss Georgia has this shit in the bag

who let Miss Iowa in?

Go home, Miss Florida. You. Are. A. Robot.

Smile LIKE YOU MEAN IT!

Gretchen Carlson used to be my hero. Now she's an anchor on Fox news. No more heroes.

I am so good it's sick. Hawaii and Georgia both made the cut.

Evening Gown!!!!

fall fall fall fall fall

oh dip, Miss Hawaii has a niiiiiice dress, er evening gown.

Miss Georgia is channeling Jessica Rabbit and maybe she's a man.

that was mean, I'm sorry, she seems nice

Miss Indiana = nononononononononono

Talent Competition!!!

Dear Miss District of Columbia, Ummmmmm. Sincerely, m.lady

Georgia. Nailed it.

yeah, good luck following that

barf

oh. my. god. Hawaii is going to hula (she actually did a traditional Tahitian dance)

it's neck and neck between Hawaii and Georgia, everyone else should just go home

Hawaii for the win, you can't beat this

yeah, just give her the crown

jeezus! Six more talents! Garfuflt, more singing

my ears, they are bleeding

again. Florida=robot.

finally! tap dancing!

This pic isn't from this year, but there's no way you would know that if I hadn't told you.

Miss Michigan appears to be wearing an outfit made out of post-it notes (we invented post-its)

Question Round!

softball question

Georgia, don't fail me

good answer

fail

Big Brother answer, Indiana

Iowa?!

good answer. bad makeup.

shut. up.

Hawaii didn't make it?! Rigged! Rigged!

Florida is a robot.

It's all on you now, Georgia.

I still can't believe Miss Hawaii didn't make it

robbed

Who's gonna win?!

7th place – Florida

6th place - New York

5th place – Iowa

(Georgia changed gowns!)

1st runner up - Georgia. Man! I was so close!

Of the three finalists, I hope no one wins.

best. winner. ever. (Ericka Dunlap)

I call California.

Miss America is......Indiana?!

Miss America, 2009. Eh.

Young Canadians, "Hawaii" (Noise is for Heroes)

Recession Love

2009-01-19T06:06:00.002-11:00

I recently finished an interview with Jason from Orange Alert and answered a question with the erronious statement that I update this blog twice a month. What an exaggeration!

Is it that I'm so busy, I never get a chance to update?

No, I pretty much have nothing interesting to say.
Isn't honesty refreshing?

Let me tell you about love, recession love to be exact, I had to cancel my dentist appointment so I could afford to take my cat to the vet. That's love

I need to learn French so I can read this website.

The Kooks, "Kids (MGMT cover)" (The Audio Muffin)

Ho ho humph

2008-12-26T21:40:00.003-11:00

I took the train home from Minnesota today. Damn, I love the train. I realized that it's because, when you ride the train (the way I ride the train--in my own private room), you can close yourself away and just be this anonymous being. You're not in any one place and you aren't in a hurry so time just slows down and all of the outside world is behind and in front of you and you get to just ride in the happy little cocoon. Plus, the view is awesome.

They even gave us mini bottles of champagne (really, sparkling wine)!

So, imagine my joy when I got home to find a fuse had blown and the contents of my refrigerator had thawed. My freezer = puddle.

Merry Christmas!!!

Guess what, I have a holiday story up at Thieves Jargon.
Read it now.

Chris Smither, "Train Home" (I am fuel, you are friends)

Disappointment

2008-12-13T03:58:00.003-11:00

At some point in the near future I am going to write about The Abyss and why it is one of the worst movies ever made and how much that breaks my cold and brittle heart.

.

For she's a jolly good fellow!

2008-12-08T13:19:00.003-11:00

Last week, I had the pleasure of participating in what is easily the funnest reading I have ever been to. It was at the Rec Room and the theme for the night was "Reading Bondage: Only the Microphone was Ashamed." Genius curator Nicolette Bond created a bevy of "constraints" that each reader had to go through while reading their poem. You can find a better account of the night on Jac Jemc's blog here.

My personal favorite part of the night was when I won the raffle and a prize of the entire room singing "For she's a jolly good fellow" to me. I honestly felt like the personification of cupcakes at that moment. It was jolly and joy.

My (close) second favorite moment was when, while Jac was reading a poem, the entire audience slowly stood up and surrounded her. It was amazing.

I'll be participating in the Rec Room again next month as they represent at the Lit Gangs of Chicago at the MCA. The show is on inauguration day (January 20th) and the theme is "So help me God." I wonder what Theodore Huxtable will have to say about it.

Two more readings to go THIS month.

First, of course, is Quickies!

featuring:
James Kennedy (super)
Shannon Schmidt (awesome)
Melanie Datz (that's what she said)
Mandy Hobomeier (you don't say)
Lindsay Hunter (you're mom)
and Margaret Chapman (oh dip)

...And on December 15th, I'll be reading at the whistler as part of the Orange Alert Reading Series.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to write my story for tomorrow night. It's going to be about buttons. Silver buttons.

Brandi Carlile, "The Story" (I hope your ears bleed)

.

2008-11-25T18:25:00.002-11:00

My 55 word story:

Stick with me and Theodore Huxtable, kid, we'll take you to the Emerald City.

Put your hands up, I'm gonna blow your face off. See how I put you in an oven. Put you in a pot. I clean the dirt and the skin off your bones. I cut your hair and I clothe you in sequins blue and green. Now you're my fancy dancer. You're my Prom King.

Neutral Milk Hotel, "Gardenhead/Leave me alone" (Captain's Dead)

oy

2008-11-22T16:32:00.002-11:00

I have approximately 200 webpages on my bookmark bar. Because I don't understand how to organize them? Or because I'm too lazy? Bit of both, methinks.

I finally got a chance to check out Fiction at Work, after about 4 weeks away and you know what? They put my story up! (Thanks for the update Toby....not)

So check out my story.

It's about Theodore Huxtable and it's awesome.

Biz Markie, "Just a Friend" (Popdose)

Money isn't everything. This isn't about money.

2008-11-18T19:20:00.004-11:00

As I was staring with some strange kind of emotional paralysis at my student loan payment plan for the next ho hum many years, I thought, damn. Why did I go to a private college that gave me nothing but a lovely grant for the first three years and then pulled the rug out from under me so I had to take out a loan to cover that entire senior year *plus* remember the loans I took out for the previous three years? Yeah, why did I go there again?

Right, I was going to edit TV shows...

And then I wonder why I was so driven to go to grad school.
Why I insisted I needed to get my MFA in writing.
A degree I knew would get me nothing jobby, but a whole lot in the personal and artistic growth area.
Too bad personal and artistic growth doesn't easily transfer to $$$

And I remember when I was in high school and there was a school in northern Minnesota that I could have gone to, basically for free and I decided to go visit the school all by myself and as I drove up to campus, on the single road that lead to campus, I drove right in the middle of a field of wheat and saw cows and nothing but nothing but the smell of manure filled the car and I thought, if I go to school here, I will become an alcoholic.

But I would have been an alcoholic with no debt.

And I remember a school on the west coast with a smaller tuition bill. It was on a hill, by a bay.
Why didn't I go to school there?

And I remember when I deferred going to grad school for a year and for that year I considered not going to grad school. I considered staying in Boston to run a cafe and drink espresso for the rest of my days.

I'm buried under by money. By the consequences of my hammerhead convictions that I would go to school, no matter the loans it took.

I'm buried under by the decisions that not only broke my bank, but maybe, a little (a lot), my heart and all the veins and muscle that surround it.

I'm buried under by constantly wanting to go back in time and figure out the way to make the right decision.

I'm completely perplexed by the puzzle of how far back I would have to go to make things right. For once, to feel that I make sense.

My People Sleeping, "Time Machine" (I (heart) Music)

you take the good you take the bad

2008-11-17T06:57:00.004-11:00

The election bliss having worn away, I'm left to sit at my dining room table to worry over my finances.

So I called Comcast to do the cutting away of all that extra flesh.

Yup, I called to cancel cable.

No more Forensic Files
No more Cold Case Files
No more Monk or Psych
So long Top Chef!
Farewell Anderson Cooper, you silver fox, you
E! countdowns and the Soup

But, truth be told, it was time. I was becoming too reliant on my new couch and the ease in which I could become a potato.

So I called Comcast, ready to cancel.

But I am weak.
And when the operator told me she could swing me a deal to keep my cable for only 10 dollars more than I would pay for just Internet....well....

Hello Forensic Files!
Hello Cold Case Files!
Hello Mad Men!
Hello What Not to Wear!
Hello Law and Order-any time of day!
Hello Rachel Maddow!
Hello Kieth Olbermann!
Hello Jon Stewart!
What's up Chelsea Handler!
Hey there late night re-run of Meet the Press!

The Isley Brothers "This old heart of mine (is weak for you)" (polaroid)

You can VOTE however you like

2008-11-04T05:25:00.002-11:00

I have an election day special story up at "This Zine Will Change Your Life"

check it out

and VOTE (however you like)

T.I. "Whatever You Like" (The Music Slut)

In honor of Halloween....

2008-10-31T06:40:00.001-11:00

ps

2008-10-27T08:15:00.003-11:00

psst....I finally got off my ass and updated my robot blog, check it out!

.

Ooooohhhhhh Yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhh!

2008-10-27T06:10:00.006-11:00

When I was but a youth, my brother and I watched more WWF wrestling than we did any other activity. More hours than sleep, bathing, eating, reading, and school put together I'm sure.

We had parties planned around the Pay-Per View schedule for the big matches.

And my favorite was Randy "Macho Man" Savage:

I don't know, he seemed like a nice guy, I guess.

So when I saw "The Wrestler" the other night, I was feeling a lot of nostalgia. And a lot of, what happened to these guys? I mean, Hulk Hogan had that reality show, but what of Randy? or Rowdy Roddy Piper, or the Undertaker? or that Rick guy, the dream or whatever.

The movie was a lot like a story you read in a workshop that's really well written and has moments of subtle beauty and character revelation, but was ruined because the writer took too many comments from the class to heart. "He needs a love interest." "Where is his family?" "Poor women are strippers."

Oh, what's that? The last one? Yeah. Why is it, in soooo many movies, the female character who gets our sympathy, who is the saving grace to the protagonist, the representation of women who are a little down and out is always always always a stripper?! Are there no other careers for the down and out? Shoe sales maybe? I worked in shoe sales for a good three years and let me tell you, it can be pretty degrading too. On your knees all day tying people's shoes. I would like to see a movie that has a scene of a woman who thinks herself smart and funny and bright having to deal with tying the shoes of an old woman who won't stop talking about her bunions.

The only good part about the stripper character was that she was played by Marisa Tomei and in all the close-ups, you could tell the Ms. Tomei as stayed away from the botox and the face lifts and her expressions were refreshingly true. But they drew all these busted face tattoos all over her and they screamed sharpie marker. Lame.

They also gave the wrestler an estranged daughter. The character was basically an excuse to give Evan Rachel Wood and excuse to "emote" and to ACT. lame.

The true highlight of the movie was Mickey Rourke. Damn, that guy can act. Even the way he breathed was in character. The way he walked, the way he smiled. The way he looked at people kind of out of the corner of his eye, not in a shady way, in a kind of shy/scared of exposing himself kind of way. And it seemed like a lot of the interactions with the other wrestlers was improvised which added a really nice kind of camaraderie to the story.

This all brings me to say, cliche's and plot devices suck. Sometimes, adding story lines for the purpose of filling a formula (character needs love interest, character needs family) takes away from the story itself. It can even take away from the depth of the character! It may add to the "plot," but at what cost? There were so many small moments in the movie that told so much more about the character than the big over the top crying scenes.

Go see the movie, Mickey Rourke is awesome, but don't say I didn't warn you.

There is something to be said for small and delicate, don't you agree, Randy Savage?

Run! It's the Blob!

2008-10-24T05:31:00.004-11:00

I know, if I want to be a writer with a pretty blog to promote me and my writerlyness I should blog more. But I've been a depressed blob lately and no one wants to read about that.

This is just a note to say, hey slackers, I'm still out here.

Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, "The Debtor" (Indie Muse)

hahahahahahhahah ahh hahhahahahahahah

2008-10-16T17:51:00.003-11:00

Everything is better with zombies.

Today I made eye contact and nearly shit myself.

Still not, urm, okay?

Guess I relate to the zombie in the green sweater.
He doesn't even get a glass of wine.

The Cranberries, "Zombie" (Sell the Lie)

the rain falls

2008-10-09T19:10:00.002-11:00

I've been having a bit of a slump, writing-wise. As in I haven't written anything new in about 10 weeks.

But the other night I was listening to some Dr. Dog and I got to writing. And you know, once you start writing after so long of not writing, you can't let anything stop you.

You skip class.
You call in sick to work.
You stay up all night.

And so, I finally went to sleep at 4:30 am after successfully writing my story for the QUICKIES! 55 word story night.

Sure it took about 6-7 hours to write what amounts to a run-on-sentence. But it was oh so worth it.

Dr. Dog, "The Breeze" (Pretty Goes With Pretty)

I am an optician.

2008-09-30T15:28:00.002-11:00

Today, at work, I played with glitter.

Today, a story I wrote about a time I miss, but didn't know I'd miss and maybe I only miss it so much because I made up a bunch of fiction about it, was published at decomP.

Please check it out.

I have a really bad cold and it feels like all of my joints are staging a revolt against me.
And maybe my brain has melted and is evacuating via my nostrils.

Today I bought apple cinnamon tea.

I love tea.

I have fond memories of iced tea.

Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to knit a sweater.

Curumin, "Compacto" (The Yellow Stereo)

Pretty Paisley

2008-09-24T19:23:00.003-11:00

I always feel like an asshole. Always.

I know I'm not always being an asshole, but I can't tell myself, oh, m.lady, you're not being an asshole, because that may be the one situation that I am actually being an asshole.

I always feel like I'm a jerk.

I usually have a lump in my throat. The kind you get when you're really upset and on the verge of tears. But I can never figure what exactly is upsetting me.

I finally started writing a story tonight. That's something I haven't done in a while.

...anyway...

Earlier today, Mrs.Bobo informed me that she is high class and in need of surroundings that reflected this fact. I obliged and bought her a paisley cozy dome....thing.

I'm watching MSNBC and thinking, maybe more people need to get in touch with how often they are assholes.

John McCain is an American Hero.
John McCain is a crazy cray cray crazy and realllly out of touch.
The two above statements are mutually exclusive.

The Black Hollies, "Paisley Pattern Ground" (We Like it Indie)

red rover red rover send m.lady on over

2008-09-22T17:47:00.004-11:00

I've been gone a while. I know.

Truth is I've been a little bit sad. A lot unable to get up and go. It's much easier to sit on the couch and zone out and not think about all that I'm not doing.

I'm just in one of those phases where it seems everyone else's life is moving and changing and they're developing and I'm set to pause, a skipping record, an iceman.

So today was the first day of fall. I had the day off and I told myself I would check out a nearby coffee shop. Test it to see if it would be suitable for sitting and writing for long periods of time.

It also happened to be the pre-determined day for a "Day in the Life" photo project that I take part in on flickr.

Sometimes, it's hard to leave the house because there are so many PEOPLE everywhere. Once I had calmed down it was a lovely day. I walked along Milwaukee Avenue with my camera at my hip, blindly taking pictures.

Here's a whole ton o' photos:

Modwheelmood, "Scared of Everyone" (We Like it Indie)

My personal experience speaks volumes

2008-08-27T16:29:00.004-11:00

Blue Cross Blue Shield is a bad bad bad corporation.

I think they've made my health worse in the last year.

Thanks, Blue Cross!!!

The Kissaway Trail, "Smother + Evil = Hurt" (Hits the Car)

Platform diving is scary

2008-08-20T13:01:00.003-11:00

The commentator on the NBC just said that the platform divers hit the water at 35 mph. Seriously.

anyway, moving on

I'm really super happy today because I have a new story up at Thieves Jargon. It'll only be up for a week so *don't hesitate! act now!*

read it here.

Ahhhh, after many submissions to TJ, I am sooooo happy.

.

20 Shocking Unsolved m.ladys

2008-08-17T14:10:00.002-11:00

So I've re-arranged my apartment (which, I think, is about 400 sq feet) and now I have a couch! So now I can be a real couch potato!

And, as I don't procrastinate, I am sitting on my *new/old couch* watching E! and "20 Shocking Unsolved Crimes" / "My Shocking Story" on TLC / "The Olympics" while eating too much guacamole (wait, is there such a thing?!).

How then, you wonder, do I manage to get any writing done?

Them's the benefits of ADD, ya slackers.

Anyswezz, I have a new little story and an Interview (!) up at the kind Nick Ostdick's blog.

Check it out.

la la la

Jackson Browne, "These Days" (Cover Lay Down)

Would you be my American boy?

2008-08-08T17:22:00.011-11:00

In case you missed it (slackers)

I read this at the CUTE!!! Rec Room reading:

Did it hurt, when you fell from heaven?

Mind if I sit here? Is this seat taken? Don't I know you from somewhere? My goodness, you sure are.....uh, cute? You know you're like a kitten with crooked ears, you're like a unicorn foal, a bunny toy with one eye. You're a basket full of kittens, a baby in a pea pod, you're a puppy wearing snow boots.

Tell you what, let's go somewhere where we can giggle and snuggle in private. Wanna come on over to my Barbie Dream House? You're not allergic to bears are you? I just adopted 14 baby Koala's and, I hope you don't mind, but I need to stop by Tootie's garden store on the way, gotta pick up some chocolate frosting bamboo.

Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes look like snickerdoodles in a lake of marshmallow fluff? Oh, you're so pretty, like a field of poppies in a sunshine bathtub. I just want to snuggle cuddle you. Oh, did I go to far? I'm sorry, I went too far. Stepped over the candy cane line. I always do that when I really like a teddy bear.

Let's start slow huh? Take it easy like a dream on a pillow of stars and dreams and moonshine. No, not that kind of moonshine, the glitter and crayon kind of moonshine. We can go to the movies, only we'll pretend we're French and say stuff like "ooh, let's go to the cinema and eat croissants and smoke cigarettes and say the poetry and dress all in black. Mon dieu! Bonjour! soc le blu!"

Hey hey and eventually we can get good and sweet on each other. Sweet like cinnamon rolls. Sweet like Joey Lawrence. Whoa! We can get married. We can honeymoon on gumdrop lane and bon bon our way to ticklish sunflower island. We can tiddlywink in the blue water of the hopscotch ocean. We can skippity doo dah down lemon custard road until we get to the strawberry shortcake castle and there, my sugar plum snuggle puff is where we can be confetti dreamers and make a thousand baby hamsters.

Oh, I went too far, I'm sorry. Oh, too, too far, so sorry, I always do that when I fall for a cartwheeling panda bear in a top hat.

Tell you what, let's take it slow. I'll Charles in Charge you a chocolate milkshake, my little pony. And if you want, you can tap dance the Skittles rainbow out of here, or you can stay, and we can talk about the finer points of pinwheels and interior decorating with lilypads made of sugar cubes and sunflowers.

So what do you say? Let's dream a cloud or two. Let's hook up like siamese twin puggle puppies.

Oh, I'm sorry, I went too far. I always do that when I fall for a New Kid on the Block.

Soko, "I Will Never Love You More" (Gee Wizz)

CUTE!!!

2008-08-04T04:08:00.004-11:00

I will be taking part in the Rec Room fundraising reading on Wednesday, August 6.

The theme for the reading is CUTE!!! and I. Cannot. Wait.

My story is a really long pick-up line.

This is the poster:

I want a t-shirt of this.

The reading is:
August 6, 2008
8pm
The Black Rock Bar
3614 N Damen (corner of Damen and Addison)
Chicago, IL
$5 (to a good cause)

plus, the Black Rock has yummy tater tots, what more could you desire?!

Minuit (Rico Tubbs remix), "A Room Full of Cute" (You Can Call Me Pelski)

Hello, Mrs. Bobo!

2008-08-03T03:11:00.004-11:00

Ryan Adams, "Hey There, Mrs. Lovely" (Musical Justice)

yup.

2008-07-29T15:37:00.003-11:00

I cut my hair!

No, I didn't cut it, the genius of scissors, Mikal at Art and Science, cut my hair.

I am much happier than this picture shows, but I felt it gave a good view of how short it is:

I told her that I wanted to look like a seven year old boy who had finished the championship game of his little league season and just took off his helmet. That and I told her the only way she could go too short would be if she had shaved my head.

the. haircut. rawks.

I. am. super. psyched.

Cap N Jazz, "Little League" (captain's dead)

Lovely, just lovely

2008-07-28T14:53:00.005-11:00

Can I just tell you, I have had the most lovely day today!

I would like to make a list of lovely:

1) I got to sleep in
2) I watched Oprah and cried
3) I found this (thank you fourfour Rich!):

4) I wore a pretty dress
5) I worked outside all day (not too hot, actually, a nice breeze was in the park today)
6) when I got to work, I found out that **Bill Callahan** was giving a concert at the Pritzker Pavillion, which I could hear perfectly
7) My one and only duty at work for the day was to work on a puzzle
8) During my lunch break, I took the puzzle to the lawn and had a lovely shaded lunch time
9) The Minnesota Twins are playing the White Sox, so the game is on TV and I can watch it
10) The Twins are winning
11) I just took mom's squash pie out of the freezer and can now smell the tasty deliciousness as it is heating up in the oven

It's nice to have such a lovely day as I am not looking forward to work the next few days. I had quite an unpleasant experience facilitating my exit. I am soooo looking forward to going back to Eye Spy and would just like to put all of the bad vibes of the last 10 months behind me. Three more days, I can do it! Yes I can!

Anyway, it's like a special kind of sunshine was on me today and I am quite happy about it.

I am now going to work on a sweater that I'm knitting. It has snowflakes and flowers and birds.

Bill Callahan, "Diamond Dancer" (the of mirror eye)

Definition of "cool"

2008-07-23T03:32:00.002-11:00

Yeah, just click right here.

El Ten Eleven, "I Like Van Halen Because My Sister Says They Are Cool" (Insomnia Radio)

Rock Rock

2008-07-22T12:22:00.004-11:00

I had a lovely weekend at the wedding of Ted and Caroline. I managed to get through the whole weekend without a picture of the wedded ones together so here is a picture of a frog that we rescued during the reception:

It was a really lovely and fun reception. There were only about 80 guests and the wedding and reception were outside. Lovely lovely lovely. I think Ted and Caroline are great. I'm glad I know them. I'm lucky that I know them. I hope I always know them.

So the weekend was great. I went to Louisville to visit a good friend and met her tumor cat:

Then I went to Indiana for the wedding, lovely.

On my way home on Sunday, I stopped at several flea markets, most were really nice, I could just wander about through the booths. I was wearing a sleeveless shirt and a man who was at least 6'9" 400 lbs got all excited about comparing tattoos. I went to one flea market that made me decidedly uncomfortable due to the sheer number of Confederate flags. But it was funny, at that flea market, I met the nicest old guy. He was immediately kind and helpful and it made me feel not so scared for my life. I ended up buying a bread box to hide my mail and an old make-up case to put knick-knacks in. (in which to put knick-knacks?)

Lovely lovely.

On Monday, I was pooped on by a bird:

On Tuesday, I got three fillings and somehow managed to plan what may be the greatest. reading. ever. (February 12, 2009 Innertown Pub Chicago)

And, big news, I'm thinking of cutting my hair wicked short. It's one of those impulses that I want to satisfy NOW, but because I don't have any time off until next week, the haircut is scheduled for Tuesday. I put a poll over there on the right for you, dear readers to help me decide. Could I rock it? Or would I cry forever?

Got a slew of rejections today. Two were really nice, just said that they'd read the story several times and, in the end, decided it wasn't quite right. One was lame (Smokelong, get a new standard rejection letter) and one was curious and kind.

The editor told me that my story warranted deeper discussion, he made a few suggestions, delicately, so I would know that he wasn't trying to re-write the story. But he said that if I would consider the changes, he would consider the story. The changes were pretty dramatic-to me. So I said thanks, but no thanks. I don't want to be one of those writers who has to explain all of the meaning in her stories. But I really wanted to. Instead, I made note of the fact that this editor, although he didn't love the story as it was, took the time to write a really thought out critique and that I appreciate.

Now, if only someone would send me a kind acceptance letter...

The Replacements, "Punk Poop" (Pop Headwound)

Technology, you're a mutha.

2008-07-16T13:54:00.002-11:00

After some computer breaking and sad face making, Eclectica is live and on-line!

I've read most of the issue already (I got to take a sneak peek, ha ha) and It's a.w.e.s.o.m.e.

I'm so super psyched to be a part of Eclectica.

It's a kick-ass journal, I'm doing cartwheels.
Right now.

So please, check out Eclectica, you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll do cartwheels too!

The Earaches, "So Into You" (False 45th)

That's what she said/So's your sister

2008-07-14T07:51:00.005-11:00

Ah travel. I never take enough pictures, and when I do take out my camera, it's usually during one meal and I end up with a five day vacation (ha! who am I kidding? I haven't had a five day vacation since I was 15, which, upon reflection, is fairly lucky, there are kids who have *never* had a five day vacation, but I digress...) anyway, I end up with pictures from a two hour meal to represent a weekend getaway.

And so it happened again. I went to Long Island for the wedding of a dear college chum. Knowing I would be the only single gal at my table, I sported a very short green dress and patent leather heels. They held up well on the dancefloor (the dress and the heels).

During the bouquet toss, I was literally dragged from my seat by a bridesmaid. When the bouquet was thrown, it began to sail in our direction and both the bridesmaid and I fled the scene, not wanting to be anywhere near the bunch of tulips and roses that symbolized, what exactly?

The next day, I went into the city to hang with my cousin and a couple of friends from Chicago. It was good times.

And, of course, no trip to Brooklyn would be complete without a drink at a dirty bar. Sitting on a bench that maayyyybbbee could give a girl fleas.

And so, at 4:30pm, I had to board a subway train and bid adieu to my lovely weekend on the east coast. I had a blast. I ate miraculously delicious vegan pancakes.

And bought a ridiculous purple polka dotted dress at a Brooklyn thrift store (when in Rome...)

Got to the airport (at about 5:30)....bought the newspaper....and waited.....until 12:30 to board my plane. Ahh delays. Still, it astounds me how easy it is for people to yell at representatives for the airlines. I mean, hey dude, I had to wait an extra four hours too, but I'm not calling the poor Jet Blue ticket agent horrendous names. I mean, the guy's not the pilot, he's not the president or ceo of Jet Blue, he's not the mechanic or the navigator, he's the dude at the counter trying to help you.

Seriously, people are mean! I was walking through the terminal (on my way to get a warm sandwhich--it turned out to be cold lettuce on toasted white bread) behind two flight attendants who had just had their flights cancelled and were chatting about the hurricane that was causing all the cancellations and delays and this random woman comes up and just starts screaming at one of the flight attendants and then random woman says, "I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated."

So, okay, she apologized, but really, it must be so hard to be an employee for an airline. Yeah, I feel sorry for me for having to wait four hours and then having to ride the CTA in a skirt at 3am, but at least I didn't have to work on my feet for those three hours in-between and get ripped a new one by the drunk guy in aisle 17.

So here's to you, anyone in customer service, especially for an airline, I raise my glass of Ginger Ale to thee.

Guns 'n' Roses, "Patience" (Hypeful)

Heaven in a handbasket

2008-07-09T16:47:00.001-11:00

Kaisa Guitar Hero
Originally uploaded by EleventyMillions

The Quoteable Susan B. Hamilton

2008-07-07T08:52:00.002-11:00

I was home for the weekend to attend a friend's wedding. (It's wild when you realize that you've been friends with someone for more than half your life.)

There are a couple of fantastic things about going home, wait, three fantastic things about going home:

1) Mom's cooking
2) Looking at my parents and realizing that I have some awesome genes
3) Mom's quotes

Yes, my mom is often unintentionally hilarious. She speaks her mind. Always.

Some highlights:

"You get that from your father, I get swearing from my dad... I've been saying shit more. I've even got your father saying it now."

"Mary was an old egg and she turned out fine."

"I don't know why everything needs a sex scene. I was reading a book and right in the middle there are two pages of sex! I mean, maybe that would have been interesting when I was in high school, but now I just want them to get on with the plot of the book!"

"Shit."

My mom, she's the best. She also was going to give he her photo album from her college days (early 60s) but, alas, I forgot to bring it back with me. shit.

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Shout-out to love

2008-06-29T13:21:00.004-11:00

I am a lucky gal.

I have some awesome friends.
Good people who care about me and whom(who?) I care about very much.

They are talented, beautiful, and kind.

Today, I feel like giving a couple of them a shout-out because they make me feel like the world doesn't suck.

so BRAVO to
Lindsay Hunter and Caroline Clough

sunshines of my heart.

For Lindsay;

Kenny Loggins and Stevie Nicks, "Whenever I call you friend" (Leather Canary)

For Caroline:

Plants and Animals, "Good Friend" (False 45th)

Hey, nobody's perfect

2008-06-28T05:52:00.004-11:00

A while back, my brother gave me his keyboard. He wasn't using it and my guitar is broken, so he gave it to me so I can practice my musicality.

I finally pulled it out from under my bed last week. See, I've been going through some stuff lately and rather than drink my pain away, I've decided to turn to the keyboard to practice and practice to forget everything else in my head.

So I've been doing the keyboard thing for about a week now, and it makes me really happy. It reminds me of when I was a kid randomly pounding the keys of my parents' upright in our living room. Gradually learning notes and their relation to the keys. I played the drunken sailor song and my dad danced a jig in the hall. I remember the feeling from the music. I remember feeling the sadness in sections and the victory and accomplishments of other sections. I remember saying "oops" every time I missed a note (still do, you just can't hear it on the video).

Well, I quit piano lessons when I was about 12, but I didn't stop trying to teach myself songs using "classics made easy" books.

So, in a little thanks to my brother, I made a video to show that I appreciate the gift. Sure, I mess up a few times, but, I don't think I ever had a recital in my youth when I didn't mess up, so, yeah.

Here it is (I've never uploaded a video here before, fingers crossed).

m.lady's piano recital (it's a keyboard, so there's a backing track, but I promise, I'm playing notes):

Astrograss, "Drunken Sailor" (Pop Dose)

Also, check out my brother's YouTube page where you can watch him paint.

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Faith in the system

2008-06-27T03:07:00.003-11:00

Yesterday I went to the DMV and received my new Illinois driver's license!

But

As I was waiting in line to take the written test (which I was *freaked out* over, I don't remember the last time I took a test), the man in front of me negotiated a chance to take his test over. Then, as I was taking the test, said man was reprimanded from behind the counter by the DMV employees thusly: "SIR SIR, NO CHEATING." and they made him move to a desk away from everyone else. Then, as I was sweating, nervous, waiting in line to turn in my test and find out if I passed, the man was in front of me, at the counter, getting his test checked. He got the maximum number of questions wrong to still pass. Yes he did. Yes he did.

Well, I passed the test and got my shiny new license.

But then.

This morning.

I noticed.

My middle name.

Misspelled.

(Now, have been known to misspell my own name once or twice, but when you get your license in Chicago, you don't actually fill out any paperwork, the DMV employees enter everything in the computer themselves, so it wasn't my fault!)

Primus, "DMV" (Captain's Dead)

"I like everything about you."

2008-06-21T08:38:00.003-11:00

Thank you, coffee shop boy, for making my day.

Lyrics Born, "I Like it I Love it." (Nine Bullets)

Please buy this for me.

2008-06-15T14:37:00.002-11:00

It's a USB mix tape!

Actually, I would like ten (thousand).

Butane Variations, "Mix Tape Honey" (Here Comes the Flood)

Oh, yeah, you blend

2008-06-13T13:00:00.000-11:00

It is often said that when Marisa Tomei won her Oscar for "My Cousin Vinny," it was some kind of fluke. Rumor has it, that the wrong name was either read or written on the envelope. Why such doubt? I'd like to know. I think it's because it was a comedic role, something lighthearted, and maybe people thought that something that brought the audience joy was an easier task and not deserving of Academy gold.

Rubbish! I say. If you have seen "My Cousin Vinny," you know, that Marisa Tomei knocked it out of the park.

But what is important is what she has done in the 16 years since her win.

She has steadily been working since her win, (highlights include "The Paper" and "In the Bedroom") never really trying to defend her win. It seems, when watching her work, that she is an actress because she loves to act.

Now, I'm not saying all of her choices have been golden, but they have been her choices. They have been roles that seem to either challenge or entertain her in new ways. This is a woman who has been actively working as an actress for over twenty years, never seeming to compromise. Always appearing on screen with a glimmer in her eye.

So why am I talking about Marisa Tomei? Think about it. She didn't let that early (major major major) success burn her (out). She remembered that behind her work was joy. So as a writer, it is something to remember, that although I may never reach the height of fame or success that Ms. Tomei has achieved. I can find my own happiness through my chosen craft.

By finding her joy through small movies as well as studio pictures, Tomei has allowed herself to flex her acting muscles. To take small risks and to find new stories to tell.

All the while, through an Oscar win, a Seinfeld guest-spot, and a second Academy Award nomination, she has somehow managed to fly under the radar, just doing something that she loves.

So maybe I'll never be as successful as Marisa Tomei.

And maybe I'll never win a big fancy award.

But when I finish a story that I love, before I've submitted it to the editors who will then have the power to accept or deny my words, before that, when the story is new and fresh on my computer, I have been know to throw my hands in the air and do a little dance for my own success. Even though I don't get paid for it, every day I do what I love.

Part 1:

Part 2:

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New look-whattya think?

2008-06-12T05:05:00.003-11:00

I was going to spend this lovely morning away from work sending out some new fiction submissions, but instead I was engrossed in playing around on these Internets. I joined twitter and added some bells and whistles to the QUICKIES! page. (rss, ShareThis). And then, I got to looking at my own blog and thought, needs a makeover.

I like the layout, the only thing that bothers me is that I think the link bar on the right is too close to the post section, I liked it when all this stuff was compartmentalized, I will work on that some more.

I learn by trial and error and that's how I'm figuring this out.

Also, now I'm going to probably be late for work on a day when I have the morning off (meaning my start time is 3 hours later than usual).

more later.

The M's "Don't Be Late" (I Rock Cleveland)

break in routine = sloth

2008-06-01T15:09:00.003-11:00

I used to go to a local coffee shop 2-3 times a week to do some writing.

Now the coffee shop is closed and I without a cozy escape, I find myself in my apartment easily distracted by TV or Internet or my new keyboard or my knitting projects. I get out a sentence now and then, but I can't focus, can't get my brain wrapped around anything.

Aside from the sparkling, lovely, gold star, happy time note from Minima accepting a story of mine, my inbox has received about one rejection a week. I am also curious about a few non-responses. I hate non-responses. They irk me.

One of my rejection letters went something like this (not verbatim):
This is a really interesting story, but I don't like it.

eh.

I am not motivated.

I want more tattoos.

Put me in the corner and tell me I'm a sinner.
Sloth is my new middle name.

Blah Blah Blah, "Hopeless and Lazy" (A Free Man)

I owe this to you

2008-05-26T16:00:00.004-11:00

Let's play "where's m.lady?!"

(I'll give you a hint, I was really into coordinating and fluorescent colors.)

Jacques Dutronc, "Les Cactus" (Sugartown)

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last call

2008-05-19T14:37:00.005-11:00

Jesus and Saint Peter are hanging out at the gates of Heaven. You know, shootin' the shit and what not.

Saint Peter turns to Jesus and says, "hey, J-man, I been here, like a thousand years and I really need to take a leak, can you cover for me?"

And Jesus says, "Dude, I'm the son of God, I think I can cover for a minute."

So Peter runs off, and Jesus takes a look at the questions to ask people before they are let in to Heaven, all nice and listed on Peter's clipboard:

What did you do for work in your life on earth?

Did you have any children?

What do you remember about your children?

So Jesus is hanging out, whistling a little ditty, when this old guy walks up, like really old guy. I'm talking ancient here.

Jesus shakes the guys hand and then looks at the clipboard, says, "Hey there old man, before I can let you in here to my kingdom, I need to ask you a few questions, ahh, let's see here....okay, What did you do for work in your life on earth?"

The old man coughs, and mumbles, "um, I worked with wood."

"Cool," says Jesus, "cool cool, okay, question number two, Did you have any children?"

"Yes," says the old man, "I had one son."

"Right right," says Jesus, "one son, cool cool, now, what do you remember about your son?"

And the old man looks at Jesus, looks with his big blue eyes at Jesus's big brown eyes, looks into his eyes solid and strong and says, "he had nails in his hands and feet."

Jesus drops his pencil, drops the clipboard and grabs the old man's shoulders. With tears all welling up in his eyes, Jesus looks with his big brown eyes into the old man's big blue eyes and says, "Papa?"

And the old man looks at Jesus. Looks with his big blue eyes into Jesus's big brown eyes and says, "Pinocchio?"

The Would Be's, "Funny Ha Ha" (Recidivism)

More robots

2008-05-12T17:26:00.004-11:00

More robots on my robot blog. You should check it out. It's very exciting. It's all robots.

I will post more soon, big news in rejections, reality tv, and a story that will be published sometime soon.

Isn't that exciting?!

Cazals, "Life is Boring (Crookers Zupa Dela Cazals mix)" (Phase 02)

no cigars

2008-05-03T12:17:00.002-11:00

ah me, I was working on a 365 days photo project. The goal is to take one self-portrait a day for 365 days. Well, wouldn't you know, somewhere around day 280-something, I stopped, and forgot to start up again. Deary me, I feel like a tool.

It was an interesting project to attempt. Stretching my brain to find new ways of perceiving myself. But then, it became a task, and I didn't want to bring my camera with me and I didn't even want to look at my camera and there are only so many pictures that a person can take of their own feet.

Ah, but, whoo whoo!, I started a new blog, not to replace this one, to be a companion to it, I suppose. It is called "I draw robots" and I assume you know what to expect.

I got a rejection the other day for a story that had already been rejected by the same journal. They rejected me twice.

Even when I don't try, they say "no."

I think, for a while, I will focus on making paper flowers.

Pete and the Pirates, "Come on feet" (Winter Academy)