dorothy parker (and then some)

“And sweet’s the air with curly smoke, From all my burning bridges.”

ooooooh, february has been HUGE. going into march with all this newness. my moods are five minute whirlwinds of euphoria turning to rage turning to despair turning to gratefulness turning to exasperation turning to overwhelmed turning to calm contentedness turning back to euphoria..

cutting a lot of fat from my life. by fat i mean people. i’m tired of humouring everyone. i’m not turning MEAN -as opposed to being mean, i am simply cutting ties and eliminating  room for complication and anger.

it feels good. 

today was eric’s first day back at his new job (sounds funny but it’s true). his forehead is so smooth as compared to 3 months ago he looks botoxed. there will be some second shift but a longer lifespan so that i can live with..

Martin Rath’s “Of the Dead”will be all over the German comicons this year, and my name is on that. in some small way i helped put that together, or at least, you know, helped dig up the acorn (substitute whatever analogy you like for that one). more info on that one as i get it, i’m gonna pimp the hell outta that zombie movie. it’s fucking awesome. oh, laverne, you make such a pretty corpse….

took my own author photo for the Book. set up the tripod outside the barn and clicked away with the timer. it makes it feel real.

tomorrow thundadome.com goes live with The Ides – i’ll post that link tomorrow, too!!

beth and i are talking with some others – The Others, that’s formal but personal, i like that – about putting together a zombie webzine. i think we can do it. more to come on that later, too…

this feels boastful and emotionally inadequate, i think it’s because i have green popsicle on the back of my left hand and am mainly calculating how long it will take for it to drip bewteen my fingers, and if i can finish this before it does – mainly i wanted to type this up fast to say hell yeah, 2011. i will work harder to deserve you.

it’s almost spring….

onward!!!

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new year’s revelations

eric and i were in the back booth at red lobster on new year’s eve, early evening – we had what the two of us consider the best booth in any place, and the best seat for each of us at the table – he was in the godfather seat in the corner, back to the wall, facing out, seeing everyone coming going in out, i was facing three dead bushes full of swallows and thrushes, and a pinking skyline above a parking lot low enough to maintain my anonymity.

we were primed for people-watching.

the thing is, smartphones.

fuck smartphones.

i married an observer, and i am an observer, and we discreetly stare and discuss and assess, glance and turn and murmur, speculate and ruminate. little by little there is less behavior to observe…

people are at their most interesting when bored, waiting – slightly uncomfortable, almost where they want to be in time and space. how people fill the moments in between moments are what DEFINE them. chainsmoke and daydream. tilt against the car’s headrest and fold your lip between thumb and forefinger with an unaware scowl. shake a foot. pick at shoelaces. slyly watch others. OPENLY watch others. initiate or be drawn into small talk with strangers. blank, become lost in worlds behind their eyes. play piano on their kneecaps. hum. pace. anything. everything. nothing.

text. check facebook pages. google. thumbs thumbs thumbs. that’s it. stare at the palms of their hands, imprinting lifelines into the backs of their smartphones.

this of course has been long happening – it’s a progressive disease. observers have progressively been robbed of quiet time-wasting behavior to observe…

it really crystallized at the table: the thrushes had gone, across the aisle was another married couple (each with a smartphone in their hands), slightly below me was a row of cars. two were occupied, next to each other. a large white old lady van, a small and sleek black SVU. in the van was a woman in her late 50’s, cardigan, gold glasses. in the svu, a girl in her ealy 20’s, buddy holly glasses, severe ponytail, long thin cigarette. both glanced sporadically up and around, both waiting.

under (what i consider) normal circumstances, the similarities in behavior would end there, and any following similarities would be interesting anomalies. but those were normal circumstances 10 years ago. on new year’s eve 2010, these two women were locked in the exact same time-killing behavior: twiddling their thumbs over tiny keyboards, studying tiny screens.

disappointment is relative. the sky was pink, after all.

and as addicted to my palm as i am, or WE are (eric included), they stayed off the table during dinner. if the couple in the booth opposite had put their phones away, maybe they would have closed 2010 in a more interesting way –  impulsive wig buys, psycho beach party, nudity and debauchery and laughter.

my posts are usually pointless. i thought this one was especially time-relevant.

i am in mourning for boredom.

there. sealed in internet amber.

to all of you – in 2011,  look up from your mini-computers, lock eyes with the flesh closest to you – and make a stop at the lion’s den.