Saturday, June 12, 2010

One less egg to fry.

We are about to enter week two of Leopold's southern scholarship.

My days have mostly been routine and pretty solitary (1).

Up early with Finkelstein for a long morning walk, hang out on the porch doing e-mail and bills with a cup of tea while the sprinkler tries to make up for the lack of rain, off to work and then back to get the Fink out and about for another walk before we both head home for dinner, channel surfing and bed.

I know. It doesn't sound so bad reduced to one paragraph and skipping over the part where I'm at BIG.

The fact of the matter is that I'm realizing how much productive morning time I have now that my work day can actually start after 8 am.

It's a schedule I'm hoping to keep up even after Leopold is back on the scene because I have a fair amount to accomplish in the coming months. Among the list is a recommitment to writing. I've been working in dribs and drabs but nothing truly satisfying yet.

But maybe that can change.

Maybe I can become a morning person.

Or, maybe I'll just be a really cranky non-morning person with a published story or two.

1. Though last night I got to spend time with a some of the remarkable friends I've made over my time here in D.C. My worlds collided and it put a smile on my face that lasted from the 52 bus to my front door.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Guess who's coming to dinner?

The Roller Derby Queen and I were headed to the subway together.

Roller Derby Queen: So, when are you going to invite me over for wine and fancy hors d'oeurves?

Artboy: Fancy hors d'oeurves?

Roller Derby Queen: Yeah. You're a gay guy that entertains. That's the kind of stuff you do, right?

Artboy: You mean when I host my evening salons with classical music quartets and poetry readings? Mysterious magicians from the East? Elderly Polish men playing great musical compositions on water glasses?

Roller Derby Queen: Exactly.

Artboy: You're always welcome to come over for a drink.

Roller Derby Queen: No way. I'm holding out for an invitation to one of those salons.

Dear Publishing Industry,

After giving more thought to my experience at the bookstore the other day I decided there were two choices I could make.

First, I could continue to work in obscurity, toiling away at thoughtful, personal stories that seek to explore the human condition.

And, you know, continue to wallpaper the backroom with rejection slips and stories I'll never finish.

Or, I could grab the bull by the horns and put forward some ideas for the kind of stunt-driven non-fiction that seems to be all the dead tree publishing rage.

So, here are some of my initial ideas:

The Big (Over) Easy: One Year. One City. One Egg Recipe.

Teabagging: What the Liberal Loose Leaf Tea Mafia Doesn’t Want You to Know

Joni Mitchell Never Lies: My Year Working In a Lesbian Produce Co-op

Nursery Crimes: My Year Working In the Toughest Preschool in Detroit

Orange You Glad I Didn’t Say Banana? What I Learned from the Smoothie King

Sex, Fries and Videotape: The Story of Canola Oil

Stop Making Cents: The Fight Against Pennies

Lettuce Never Part: My Year Working in America’s Most Influential Korean Salad Bar

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Take the Last Train to Clarksville.

Leopold is currently on his way to Florida.

The cool thing is that he decided to do the journey by train.

It's all very capital "R" Romantic really. A sleeping berth...there's an evening wine tasting...the chance to fall asleep while listening to the world rush past.

And from that almost anachronistic mode of transportation comes this text:

"Sleepers with plumbing are up top, without plumbing are in steerage (sounds of Celtic music and drunken laughter)."

That, my friends, is comedy.