Pretty Maids All In A Row

I am going to pig out today! Hope you do the same!

Then, tomorrow, I’m going to get all of my Christmas shopping done. No ifs ands or buts.

Oka, the show had a short run. Only a week and I never have to deal with those people again. The timing is good because last night I started writing a novel. A real-deal novel. i don’t know if it’ll be any good, but I’m gonna write it. I was thinking about the author I interviewed a while back both for a new magazine and for here on this blog and I was thinking about when I sked her about how she wrote and why she wrote and all of that and it occurred to me that she’s just like everyone else. She used to be poor and pissed off and stressed out and stuff. In other words, she used to be me. Me. Here. So, she said she just used to sit and let her brain dump words and soon it would start to flow and make sense and be good. So, I did that and I was so happy I emailed her in the middle of the night and told her everything. (Hope she doesn’t steal my idea!) She wrote back (she’s really cool and down-to-earth) and congratulated me and I had a feeling like there wasn’t any reason why I couldn’t publish it. I mean, millions of books are out int he world. Why can’t mine mbe out there too? So, in my feverish effort here, I am going to make it all work if it kills me. Maybe I’ll blog less, maybe I’ll blog more. But, I’m going to make it all work.

That was so dramatic. Damnit, I’m no better than those stupid actors. Shit.

My frind who I am stage managing for is quickly not becoming my friend. Plunk her in a theater and she’s a pain in the ass. Fucking actors, man. These people are not only crazy but eating every moment of my free time and I want to flip out. I need a booty call. That would straighten everything out. Right. Well, it would at least make me feel better. At least for a minute.

Okay, the ghost writing gig fell through. The guy got an admin job and kicked the project to the trash, which I find both a relief and very funny. So, in all my free time (right), I agreed to stage manage a friend’s show. I’m new to it sort of but I think it’ll be fun. Very grassroots and it’s a pretty funny show. I don’t see how I could screw it up, right? So I might as well.

So, I got that website thing finished and the two people who were fighting all the time are out of my sight. I was blad for the paycheck and the work and everything but they were bothering me with the love/hate shit.

Anyway, don’t laugh. I told myself that I would accept any freelance work that came in and so I have agreed to ghost write a book about a guy trying to be a thug. What have I done? This reminds me of that movie CB4– suburban rich kids trying to be street. Oh well. It’s work. I dont care. I’m going to work on it for a bit, be back later.

PS-Happy Birthday to Heather!