i know. i know. i have been a most unfaithful blogger.
however, to be fair - most of you reading this have had recent phone conversations with me. here's the deal: i work, come home and either try desperately to work on the same stupid poem over and over again for a chapbook that should be out in 8 days (i'm dubious but always willing to try), or writing something else, or watching way, way to much 24 (keifer sutherland is jack bauer, man of action and phone calls. i keep a death list of how many people they knock off in a 24-hour period/season. it amuses. aaaanyhow), or cleaning and reorganizing my immediate living space in order to avoid writing (which lately has been about as easy as running waist-deep in water).
but all my roommates work nights and pretty much everybody else is across town (too far) or in another city entirely (waaay to far). so i've actually been writing a fair amount. and playing. this pleases me.
in the vein of actually getting writing things done - i'm hoping to (by the end of the week but no promises, i'm a total flake), get the first enstallment of a new series up here. it's called transcriptions from the porch. basically a play-by-play of random conversations across random
porches in san francisco (real, imagined or too closed to home). it could be boring. it could be true, awful, enjoyable or illuminating. it could just be something i do to keep my fingers typing.
either way - you'll read it. 'cause ya know, you're already reading this fer crissakes.
okay. i'm going to go kill the bug that's flying around my room and actually finish this thing so
that y'all have something better to read than my thinly-veiled emotional dumps.
(if i haven't talked to you, call me, i miss you)