I have to apologize. I've been, and will continue to be, insanely busy.
Three clients, two personal sites, a girlfriend, and a cat. That's about all I can handle right now, and not very well at that. I feel like a juggler who hasn't dropped a ball yet, but is getting awfully wobbly.
Grace is always the first to go.
I only write when I have to. It's an ethic left over from songwriting. I don't write unless something bubbles up and won't let me rest until I do.
When I first got out of college I did some freelance writing for magazines. One of them was this travel magazine. It was for visitors to Santa Cruz, to talk about how great Santa Cruz was. The "articles" were basically ads for the downtown merchants.
Well, I wrote one of those stories. I felt cheap and dirty afterwards and it was one of the things that made me want to find other work.
Words are just too precious to me to be given away lightly.
It's just that ... well, personally ... I've kept a long list of enemies for a long time. But it seems like lately people just keep falling off of it. And now I realize that it's nice to have so much less to carry around with me every day.
And it is.
I'm getting awfully tired of saying goodbye to sites I love.
Good luck, Michael. I'll miss you.
I know. I know.
After your original email, I wrote this diatribe about how we are all doing this outta love. Sure, maybe it helps us in some way - gets us speaking gigs and whatnot - but, in the end, it's about love.
And, well, if you don't love her anymore, let her go.
I didn't send it. I figured you knew that already. I guess you did.
But, still, it makes me sad. One less site I can point to as an example. One more advance in the cavalcade of bullshit on the net. See, every time one of us folds, the bullshit quotient on the web goes up a notch, and the bastards laugh.
The ones who do it for money, not for love.
And that makes me sad.
I want you to know how much this means to me. I keep crying into my keyboard. I don't think that anything this great has ever happened to me. Fuck the awards. Nothing could ever top this. Nothing.
Smoking is a vile, disgusting habit that me perpetually sick for five years. Some days, it's hard to believe I ever took part in it. And some nights, it's hard to believe I ever stopped.
So drue and I are running around like kids all weekend, giddy with the approaching burning man festivities. Are you going? We're making fray camp this year and you're absolutely invited to join us. Today I bought a 5x8 foot black piece of ripstop nylon and purple and white spray paint. If you go, look for the huge fray flag. I'll be at its base, kvelling in the sun.
Oh, and did I mention the glow sticks? drue bought a few. Like, 350. Or so. We're going to make glow-in-the-dark clothes out of them.
See you there.
I am having a stupid day. One of those days where the universe continually reminds you, in little annoying ways, that you're in the wrong spot.
I think it was the sink that stopped draining this morning. Or the fact that I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in days. Or the realization that my workplace is falling apart. Or the lady who blocked my car into a parking space this morning and then proceeded to lecture me on why I shouldn't park in that lot because it's a towaway zone but wouldn't listen to me when I said that I parked there on Saturday when it was perfectly legal to do so and yes I forgot to move my car and I'm really sorry but blocking me in is also very illegal so now please step off of your high horse and into your car and move it out of my way before I throw my car in reverse and move it my goddamned self....
One of those kinda days.
I remember when I got my wisdom teeth out. My dad chased me around the house with a camera, calling me "chipmunk cheeks" the whole time.
I ate cream of whatever soup for a week until I almost lost my mind. And then ... finally ... pizza. That was the best pizza that ever crossed my lips....
Something wonderful has happened.
So don't you dare tell me that dreams don't come true.
thoughts from july