Notes: FIGURE OUT SHOE MESS – biggest issue….

It seems a bit ridiculous out of context – but really, the shoe mess is the biggest issue. Everything else is really arranging itself beautifully.

 

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The Batman Ring

Messes with my head when I’m up so much earlier than everyone. Kiddo got leapt upon by 3 lbs of black fur at around 3:30 – now kid, dad and aforementioned ball of fur are all nicely settled together in the big bed. Me? Im wider than a stick of gum and had to slip away.

My toenails look fabulous, I want to photograph them, but that’s the same part of me that just spent too long looking for a plastic batman ring I saw shoved on the cat’s ear last evening.

Lets see. What, what? Fourth of july weekend was all the stuff it is supposed to be, more “classic” than any we’ve had so far – kid games at the park, dunk tank with the mayor, swimming, grilling, sparklers, fireworks. Maybe adam’s best holiday to date; Lily really brings out the satyr in him. (Photos in a later post)

There’s a lot of fog.

My stories are getting more compact – working on this thing, thought it was about a whole night, got interrupted, back to it later and I realized it needed two more lines. What, maybe 400 words? But sometimes you WANT something to be sex but instead it’s about moths and alcoholism. It’s voice work, I think. Anais Nin crisis – I go back and forth between Henry & June and her erotica, and try to figure out what she was trying to figure out – the journal voice turning to the writer voice. Henry figured it out, or maybe he just said fuck it. Maybe this is about form. Don’t know. Just know that things that come from scribbles and journal scraps and bundled thoughts fallen from the sky (tied together with cigarette string and stored near the X-files trivia but not too close to the D’inofrio box) shine up into a lot more like my voice than my “this is the story” planned tales. It’s like I put on my fancy writing hat – I dont write anything fancy, but the voices are distinctly different… bridget’s voice is the only narrative voice I like, and its just (to paraphrase andrea speaking of something different) the out loud version of me. We’ll see how all that pans out.

these are good thoughts to have while it becomes daylight and the fog refuses to burn off.

If i had the batman ring, perhaps the answers would feel closer.

Too many books on the side table, but I guess it’s good –  I can say Fuck it to the voice earwhig and listen to other voices for the moment. Ahem, allow me to catalog : Knockemstiff, By the Time We Leave Here We’ll Be Friends, Clown Girl, Henry & June, Sexus, Erotica by Anais Nin. Thats an impressive table. If the PBS schedule and One Fish Two Fish weren’t amongst the pile it would be downrigh hip – and no doubt a calculated lie of a pile.

But this is not about the table. This is about the Warmed & Bound Release Party, isn’t it? No, maybe it’s about the Booked podcast that terrifies me to no end. I shall ramble in new and horrifying ways, and I am AFRAID. Big mouth, more nervous = more talking.

But the release party is exciting shit. Why? Shoes. Shoes and the 1920s and meeting all these people – I want to know what these typed voices sound like out loud, I want to match faces to stories, I want to hit on waitresses dressed as flappers.

I want a pink bandanna for my pirate costume, and to FIND THAT BATMAN RING!!!

 

zombie stomper

i have danced many a dance and texted many a midnight text this week – i think 2011 is becoming just a bang-up year.

there’s this thing that makes me dance, and this other thing that makes me dance, and then there are people that make me dance, and then there’s that familiar foot-jiggle that’s beginning, the first sure sign of a writing jag. the jiggling foot makes me dance.

i’ll elaborate on the dance reasons later. of course all the dancing is done to Gaga because that’s what the little man wants. and at this point i’ve got the volume cranked and am belting “GONNA LOVE YOU WITH MY HANDS TIED!’  all by myself in the car.

i should probably be doing more to spread this around. depending on the rain/ice situation in the morning, little man and i may head to guhl’s and buy up some fabric for zombie monkeys and other homemade gifts for the list and also just because i have a new list of people that i just want to do SOMETHING to make them smile. i think for some monkeys i’ll do stuffing brains, and for tamer versions there can be dangling button eyes. this should be fun. mail is fun.

i got to talk to my sister for like a half hour last night which is a wonderful miracle in itself – 2 hours of regular-people talk at top speed with over-lapping and sentence-finishing equals a half hour for us, and makes me feel very firmly rooted on the same planet as that girl.

eric starts his new job on monday – seriously things are crazy happy good. and i don’t have the cloud with this. there seems no reason to be peering at the sky constantly for the very vague edges of the jar. don’t think it’s close, anywhere close at all.

that’s what happens when spring is close enough to taste. the rain stops hurting and “cold” becomes “invigorating” and all the old skins start to flake, and out we shimmy.

oh, the title. the zombie stompers. i was really happy about certain developments involving a project that uses words like “cover,” paperback,”  “printing” etc. and we can blame my impulses on barbie, whatever, but i thought that a riduculous and fabulous pair of shoes that i would keep forever would be an excellent way to commemorate my name in connection with the word “print.” enter the Limited Edition Glow In the Dark Zombie Stomper … or at least the wait list. someday, someday.

and how better to say goodnight? the cheshire cat is mewing sleepy happy under the house, the rain is drumming, and i have lovely photos of my son(sun) dressed in a tissue paper lady Gaga costume, and a shoe that will one day be mine.

i love the world.