Time Passages

Until I say otherwise, just assume that I'm editing the book I've mentioned before, since that's what I'm doing, and it's just boring to mention that -- it's why I pursue a general policy of writing more and talking about writing less.

I saw a total hipster clerk at a local liquor store. He had it going on in spades -- the carefully upswept hair (not full-on hipster bedhead jackassery, but definitely carefully rendered, squintingly similar to what I just linked to), a tweed jacket, carefully rolled jeans. Oh, my. I was too amused at the overall effect to take in the remaining details, but it was something special.

Weather or not

We got a fairly righteous snowfall the other day, I think getting the back end of the nor'easter that was slamming the East Coast. It looked pretty. Maybe four inches of snow, give or take. Almost tempted me to take out the toboggan and have the boys sit in the back while I sledded them to school. Almost, but not quite.

Still working on the edits for this latest book; I really want to get it done by the weekend, get it all finalized so I can sling it out next week. We'll see. It's so damned big, it's taking time to ensure continuity and what-not.

I'm totally not watching television these days -- aside from kids' shows, I just don't watch anything. There's just nothing compelling for me, show-wise. That's good, though -- the less television, the better, in my view. Especially since I don't have premium cable, so I only get junk stuff, anyway.

Hard to believe I'll be 41 in a few months. What the hell? Hard to believe that B1 will be 10 next year. That kind of floors me, too. He's so tall, such a big boy, and has the kindest, sweetest heart of anyone I know. But I laugh, too, because he has a bit of the Dwarvish mafioso in him, too, sometimes. He'll warn his little brother "I'm holding back, but if you keep pushing me, I'm going go push YOU." B2 is so much of a rough-and-tumble lil' scrapper, even though he's dwarfed by his big brother, it doesn't deter him -- he'll divebomb him any chance he gets. B2 loves his big brother, but he also loves taking the piss. He just loves it.

It makes me laugh -- both boys have different aspects of my sense of humor, and B2 has that innate piss-taking sensibility I have. Who'd have known that this could be a heritable trait? Being a smartass? Amazing. B1 has my warmth of spirit, but it's in a latticework of a fundamental sense of How Things Should be -- he has an orderly mind and outlook. He is truly decent and good, but I'm pleased at his stubbornness, too -- it provides that sweet soul some much-needed armor for the world. When we go to school, I see him kind of go inside that armor -- when other kids are busy chasing each other and playing, B1 stands in line, waiting to be let in, lost in his own thoughts.

He's not introverted per se -- he's outgoing and affable, but there is a definite inner life to him that comes into play in some situations. Any time we go to his school, that distance comes up, and he's in School Mode, gearing up. It makes me ache a little to watch him. Everybody has their own survival strategies for school -- for me, it was that smart mouth, my sarcasm, my sense of humor, and later, my size. B1 is already taller than nearly all the kids in his grade, so he has that going for him.

I'd love to know what he's thinking when he's in line, in his own thoughts like that. I'm tempted to ask him, see what he says.

Shew

After working most of yesterday on it, I pared the book down to >188,000 words. I think when it's properly finished, it'll actually be closer to 200,000 words. I'm trying to get that done by the end of the week, think I should be able to do that.

Working

Editing the fuck out of the epic. I have trimmed it from over 500,000 words to over 350,000 words, now. That's a lot of work! Getting it all sparkly for slinging out to publishers. Big-ass book.

Postal

Is the US Postal Service (USPS) getting less reliable or what? Or does Chicago just have exceptionally bad service? I mean, I've known that Chicago's had a crappy system, but lately, it seems to be getting crappier, especially in terms of lost bills and so forth. It's getting ridiculous, is making me think I need to just have everything be paid online. I just hate that I can't rely on something that should, in theory, be both straightforward and reliable. WTF? It's just incredibly frustrating, because I'm doing my part, getting things mailed out in time, but they're not getting to their destinations, and then I'm the one left holding the bag, despite it being the USPS that boned things up.

Bahah

"Who do you have to dickslap to get some bread around here?"

Asshole For Hire from James Van Der Beek

Tallies

So, looks like I stubbed my toes 89 times last year (counting from March to end of the year): 55 left toe stubs, 34 right toe stubs.

Battle not with editors...

...lest you become one...



Seriously, this is why all editors go insane, eventually.

WTF?

Okay, if I know you, and you own these, please tell me, so that I can not be friends with you anymore. These just may be the lamest shoes, ever...

Hipster Holidays

I'm not the only one irritated by the "Hipster Christmas" Hyundai ads...

Pomplamoose Pimps Hyundais

I would like to bludgeon the twee mofo in this with those jingle bells he's brandishing. Kinda like this...

*JING* SMASH *JING* SMASH *JING* SMASH

And then put'em in the trunk of a Hyundai and drive it off a bridge.

"HO HO HO!"

2011

Well, hello, there, 2011. Funny to hear the wind howling outside this morning -- it was 54 degrees yesterday, and today's high is 27 degrees. Out with the old, in with the new.

And away we go...

So much for 2010. A curious year for me, really. Quiet, compared with the turbulent 2008, and the dreadful 2009. 2010 began as a stalemate, transitioned to something better. Kind of odd, the passage of these past few years, relative to the long slog of the years before them.

I'm ready for you, 2011. Bring it!

Shouting Match

Last night, way early, maybe 3 a.m. (?) I overheard a couple arguing somewhere in the building. They were really going at it. From their voices, it sounded like a couple of 20-somethings arguing. The guy said at one point, referencing the fire escape "There's a real quick elevator for you, right there." The gal said some stuff, but I couldn't hear it, and then later, I heard the guy yell "Stop striking me!" Which seemed kind of a prissy way of putting it. "Striking?" I think some cops came at some point, because I heard a third voice there, and the guy calmed down, and the gal quieted down. My sense was that the guy was the primary asshole in the confrontation, although they were both probably drunk (since usually the 3-4 a.m. loud confrontations like that are when the bars close, and folks head home).