The wind has shifted, it's raining now.  A cold marine layer and the air conditioner seems useless as a dinosaur.  Last night's Featherless was much fun, if sparsely attended.  And the changes, so many changes.  I got a tutoring job, and had an interview for a second part-time job today.  The second job (Starbucks) I'm not sure if I'll get, but I'm feeling hopeful all the same.

Nevertheless, at this exact moment my stomach is empty and I feel too tired and listless to cook anything or do anything about dinner.  I'm drinking coffee and somehow that seems like enough.  Tonight is Wordlab, and for the first time I'm not bringing anything in, I've just had the sort of week where writing was not happening.  The amnesia novel is about three chapters now, and I haven't had time to work on it for a couple of weeks.  I've been racing around getting a TB test, putting my resume in order, getting all the bits and pieces together for my tutoring orientation, etc..

That and practicing for featherless.  I so wish more people had been there, each person that read, Mila, Diane, was their own sort of amazing.  I was ok, I did my usual over-dramatic shtick, but people laughed, and they seemed to dig the listing of potential addictions at the end.  "tobacco, orgasms, the gym, benzodiazepines and celebrity gossip."

in which I spill my guts

The rain is conspiring to keep me tired and depressed, I think.  I should be elated right now, with all of these positive changes, but instead I feel sort of blah, sort of meh.  That's okay, maybe tonight's class will re-inspire me.

With that said: commence an actual post

I'm taking a class called Wordlab at Wordspace, and it's really helping me get motivated on the novel...aie, the novel that's been floating about in various forms for about six month now, since first conceptualized last November.  Starting from scratch was the right thing to do.  The punk novella that was supposed to be the first part is cheerily moving on on it's own, a small press (hush hush, won't say who) is interested, I must come up with a revised draft to show the editor.  He thought of a title for it, Scaffolding, which I like very much.

The L.A. Novel that I'm working on now, I'm about...maybe three chapters into it.  It's, as usually, flagrantly autobiographical.  I've gotten so used to spilling my guts by now that it's just like, "typey typey herpes typey typey taking shots of triple sec type bum piss" and etc...It has no title as of yet, and I just changed the main characters name to Ginger. 

But Wordlab, it's been great help so far.  It motivated me to turn out ten more pages for class tonight, which I'm  nervous about presenting, but sort of excited at the same time.

And Featherless.  Right now I am waiting to hear back from three amazing writers, and I am so hoping that all three of them will say yes.  We are trying to get our booking taken care of farther in advance, thus.  Monthly it becomes a rapidly turning wheel, one into another, one stops and the next begins. 

I turn 34 in ten days.  My, I'm getting old.  I still have no job.  I have been floating along this summer on a miasma of SSDI payments, food stamps, careful budgeting and the odd sold book here and there.  I am thinking of trying the ticket to work program once Katie and I are married and the chaos of wedding planning and dual book revisions/writing/Featherless has died down a bit.

It's hot today, it's one of those deathly hot days where the melting sets in and the fact that we returned the air conditioner so that I could afford to go to the doctor begins to seem like one of those Faustian bargains.  It's okay, though.  Apart from the fact that the veils have been taken off my eyes as to the transparency of the internet, the contact points reached and transgressed....I see you.  You see me.  Hi googlebot.  Let's shake hands and be friends.

Sweep the crazy-talk to the side of the table, Andrea, you're trying to blog. Yes.  I am quite happy today, despite the fact that a new creditor has added her name to the roster.  Hi Denise. We will never be friends. I am happy today because I got into the writer's workshop that I applied to.  Wordlab.  This will be my first foray into the organized workshop setting, into any sort of organized thing that is not hanging out with my friends or an event of some sort, since CalArts.  Since my breakdown.  I am excited, a little nervous, going over poems and stories and novel scraps and trying to bring some text to the table to work with.

Today it is so hot, though.  I have opened the windows, I have both fans on, I am wearing a sundress.  The bunny is lost somewhere in the apartment, I assume he is asleep under the bed.