long overdue!

Would have been blogging sooner, my little babies, but in spite of the apparently unstoppable power of my roomie's G5, I have been totally unable to post at home for some reason. So, there are a few matters of some importance that must be retroactively covered herein:

1.) Blatant irresponsibility: I had two extremely wild nights in a row this Thursday and Friday. My friend Mary from UM who is now randomly living here post Katrina-ishly (she moved from N'awlins) and I have been hanging out loads. So, she hit the town with the boys and I on Thursday nite, since our original plans of going to see Metric (interesting band featuring the Stars/Broken Social Scene girl) were shot down by the other one million people who live here and looked for an actual activity on Thursday night. So we hit the scene downtown, got our sauce on, threw tiny green berries at hipsters from a hillpoint vantage and ended up staying up until 5, with Mary screaming at the boys for how filthy the house was (she couldn't believe that women actually slept with men living in such squallor, I guess).

Friday: much, much less innocent. I met up with Mary again to check out Fabric, an incredibly cool local gay spot. And let me assure you that the amount of cute guys in this town is FUCKING STAGGERING. So, being in a cool spot in a new town, I took the initiative to throw away my reputation like so much garbage and spend the next couple of hours getting blatantly coked up and avoiding the advances of a much older fellow providing said coke. But pretty soon I was so spun there was only the end of the night and my pent-up sexual frustration, so I went back to his place.

Yikes, do you really want to know more? Anyway, I left and came home, totally unable to get to sleep until after 6.

After all that shite, I decided to gift myself with an excessively mellow Saturday, which was DEFINITELY in order.

2.) Revenge of responsibility: I believe I found a house to move into at the beginning of December, which is extremely exciting. I think I'm just going to break down and apply to work with my friend Jigga, who spends his days toiling before a call center cubicle. Whatever, it's $11/hr and will help me make sure I can actually pay to move into this place. Plus, it'll help me get the tickets for going to NYC in February, and then I can just quit before leaving and try and get another gig on the flip side.

3.) Miscellany: My last comment I tried to post was the day after the gay marriage ban passed here in Texas. Living here is definitely like living in Missoula; the young beautiful liberals try to strike down blatant legal hypocrisy and reel with shock and dismay as the other 90% of the population struggles to hold onto their fucking values. Is it absurdly frustrating and unfair? Um, yeah. But I gave up the ghost long ago on believing that we live in anything close to a perfect world. And besides, the institution of marriage exists to provide tangible proof of the invisible and the unprovable - it is my belief that marriage is something that exists to ritualize something, to create proof and promise - lovemeloveme FOREVER no,no please don't go!

Marriage doesn't fucking mean anything anymore, and if the moral majority fucking think that they're protecting a valuable and valid institution, then their next effort should be to convince alcohol-free beermakers that their product is a morally disgusting fluke that does not have the same rights and priveleges of your 6-7% 'normal beers' and should heretofore be referred to as a 'civil beverage.'

Whatever, that's my rant. In zany creative news, two nights ago I read to Josh, Jigga and Josh's lady K-Boz from One Hundred Years of Solitude, while throwing back some cocktails. It was fun, but it's kind of hard to believe how much longer it takes to read out loud - I love the language of it, so reading it aloud is great for me in processing that information in a different way, but the book is written in such lengthy, otherworldy sentances and with such little dialog it should be interesting to see if people can keep their attention up.

Today, I did some writing and research for another project. The flame lit neath my creative bunsen burner, you ask? Tom Spanbauer, of-fucking-course. I finally bought In the City of Shy Hunters, so I can reread it and attempt to force my writing to imitate all that is good about it. I just found out he has a fourth novel coming out in May, which thrills me beyond words because part of me was fucking freaked that he wouldn't live long enough to pen another work.

But, here's the exciting part: I stumbled across the 'Dangerous Writing' website, and found out that he teaches fucking classes in Portland. Portland, where I'm planning on living next summer. The coincidences are whizzing and whirring all around, but one thing is clear: I must meet and study under this man, because from what I've read of his interviews, he is as passionate and dynamic and unexpected in his teaching as he is in his writing.

Anyway, I'm at the local branch of the library, a mere block and a half from my currently crashing pad, so I'm going to trot home and grab some nourishment.