Sizzling Hot February

by Donna MacMeans



It might be cold and snowy where you live, but February is shaping up to be a sizzling hot month here in the lair.




We'll start off tomorrow, Feb. 2nd, with Harlequin Presents author Nicola Marsh and her February release, The Boss's Bedroom Agenda. Now why have my bosses never looked like that? Sure would have added some sizzle to the workplace. Fingers crossed that Nicola will bring some of the hot men from her website over to the lair to play.



We'll move from international seduction to sizzling intrique on Feb. 3rd when C. J. Lyons returns to the lair. Her latest release from Berkley, Warning Signs, takes us back to the Angels of Mercy Medical Center and the women we first met in C. J' s debut, Lifelines.




No matter the temperature outside, it will be party time in the lair on February 4th as we celebrate the fabulous bandita Kate Carlisle's debut with Homicide in Hardcover. In spite of the title this issue is being released in paperback (grin). Isn't it a gorgeous cover? You're invited to join in on the fun in the lair as we celebrate big-time.



We have yet another fabulous Avon author joining us on Feb. 5th. Kathryn Smith writes both vampires and historicals. She'll be releasing a
new series set in the Victorian era later in the year, but for now she'll be telling us about her just released fifth volume in the Brotherhood of Love series, Night after Night.




St. Martin's Debra Webb will join us on Feb. 6th to discuss her new December release, Find Me. Romantic Times Bookreviews said "Webb moves to a whole new level with this book, and the ending is off-the-charts creepy."
I think the chill that just tripped down my spine is unrelated to the chill outside.




Seems like a lot for such a short month, but we're not through yet!



On Feb. 13th, Renee Ryan takes us to Colorado in 1880 with The Marshal Takes a Bride, a Love Inspired February release - just in time for...




FEBRUARY 14th Valentines's Day!!




We'll be celebrating Valentine's Day bandita style with some massive bandita booty. So stop by to visit with Tawny and the rest of the gang - often.



Be sure to stay warm the entire month by snuggling up to the computer with a nice mug of hot chocolate and an even hotter romance. We'll try not to steam up your glasses (grin).


Source URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/01/
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The Horror of the Front Door

I don't feel like doing shit.

It has to be my new diet. My body is slowing down my metabolism to keep myself burning 1700 calories a day. That's why exercise is so valuable to dieting, because the body works against you at every level. It want's to hold onto the fat. I lay in the bed, not wanting to move. My garbage is piling up, dirty clothes, dishes. I don't want to exercise, I don't want to leave my room, I don't want to take a shower, I don't want shit on the commode, I don't want to do a fucking thing other than sit behind my laptop and type. Low calorie consumptive tasks.

But that can't be the case for today. There is no SHOUT OUT today. It has been canceled because of the memorial for Theda Detlor, a fellow poet who died quite suddenly. It was a shock to all of us. The memorial is across town from me, so there isn't a long way to travel, although it's going to be tedious. I'll have to do the bus thing, on a Saturday, down 96th street, the Rodeo Drive of the Upper West Side. You can imagine how packed the buses will be, with people rubbing against you, chattering in your ear, filling up your space. I would walk the distance instead. It's close enough, but I would have to take the foot path through Central Park, the most direct route, and you know my sentiments against that. That last time I thought that I wouldn't make it through. Naahh, walking is definitely out.

GOD I DON'T FEEL LIKE GOING.

I know that it's this diet that's talking to me. If I go it will be an amazing caloric draw and it may even energize me for further things. But I fear that that's just me explaining things away. What if it's not my diet? What if it's not my body reacting to the lower caloric intake, but rather my mind? What if I'm becoming like Howard Hughes, a shut in, afraid to go out, growing more paranoiac by the day? The slow draw to insanity. I'm homeless, it happens to us all. Sooner or later we all SCHNAPP. Getting out and around others may be good for me. A breath of fresh air, some new/old faces, stretching my limbs, getting off my ass. All of these things are beneficial.

THEN WHY AM I SO LOATHE TO DO THEM?

I don't think about it, because the more that I think about it the more that I'll grow anxious, and the more anxious I get, the less inclined that I am to do anything. That's just the way that I am. So, to take my mind off of the issue, I blog. Yeah, I find blogging to be like comfort food for the skull. I'm happy...until my webtools begin giving me problems. Yeah, delayed requests, long uploads or no uploads at all, freezing screens. It's as if there is a force against me trying to relax. I struggle with it, plodding on. Even websites are not responsive. Their servers returning with, bullshit like: Host Denied, and Network Timeout. I struggle with it because I really do need to blog. I really do! But to no avail. The crappy post that I was able to cobble together was not worth posting. I gave up.

I stood over the sink full of dishes, staring down and dreaming. I never had a problem cleaning things before, especially my dishes, why now? What was going on in my mind that I didn't want to participate in life any longer? Why was I giving up on everything?

I stood in front of the window, staring out at the brick wall across the narrow courtyard. Yeah, that's right, there is a solid brick wall right before my window. You see window's like this on comedy shows, where the landlord is boasting about scenic views. Well, I stare at it. The chinks in the mortar, the chips in the brick. What is going on in my mind? I really don't want to go to the memorial. I'm tied of mourning. I've mourned the demise of my entire life. You mean there's more?

It's a show of support for the family. I guess so. It's nice to see all of the friends of a deceased person get together to mourn their passing. It's not so much for the dead, but for the living. I stood over my laptop, looking down at it, and it's inviting arms. I have been glued to this chair for days now. DAYS. Not moving other than to get up and make something to eat. What will I do today if not just repeat the agenda of the past few days, blog, write, build and destroy. That's it. A vigorous and eternal circle.

Thinking about going out to the Associated Supermarket yesterday, I was amazed as to how much everything, even the minor things, bothered me. Waiting for the elevators or on line was interminable; encountering people, intolerable; dealing with the chill, snowy weather, insufferable. I was as hypersensitive as if I was rubbed raw and the exterior world was torture. I could not wait to get back to my little room. Its four walls closing in around me like a comfortable, warm blanket. Now I know what the phrase: 'snug as a bug in a rug' is trying to convey.

I'm going to catch enormous grief over not going to this memorial today, but I honestly don't believe that I can suffer the scores of chattering heads, and shifting faces that I will be presented with. Not like this. I am too weak in and of myself to deal with all of these signals to the brain. There just isn't enough battery power to push this vehicle any farther. I'm struggling with dealing with the outside world. It's growing more and more difficult. I'm not giving up, I just need a break. This is the first Saturday that I've had off from the SHOUT OUT without being in pain in a long time. That counts for much.

I sit down in front of my laptop. At least I'm wearing slacks today. I need to either get up soon and get it together, or make another blog post and let it continue to find a state of rest. No doubt I will be forgiven for all of my transgressions, I will be granted clemency for not showing up today. That's the way life is I'm sure.

Now, for my part, I just have to participate in it again.

Hmmmm, I think I'm going to title this next post: The Horror of the Front Door.

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/01/
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Swapping Problems

I blew off my doctor's appoint- ment.

I just didn't show. I know that's bad, you don't have to tell me! I got up this morning and had to run about to get there by 9:00am. So, I didn't bother. I was also told to come in whenever I can. I still didn't bother. I sat in my underwear all morning, surfing the web and working on my blog manuscript. While I was engaged in my work, I got curious. My mind started to wander as I cut and pasted blog posts. Something just wanted me to search the term: 'Publish your blog'. So I caved in, alright? And I came up with Blurb. Surfing to the site, I was greeted with the announcement: PUBLISH YOUR BLOG. Yes, this inventive site, constructed by The New York Times, has a downloadable software application that allows you to import your blog into a book template with one single press of a button, manipulate and format it, and then send it to an actual printer, for printing into quality book form and shipped anywhere. What the fuck? Millions are turning their blogs into professionally bound books even as I write.

That's right, the entire world is down- loading, formatting and printing hundreds of thousands of blogs. Standard book publishers don't stand a chance, and probably couldn't give a good goddamn that there was one blogger with a blog to present for publishing. They would probably just tell me to self publish it and get out of their hair. I looked at this site, and I was deflated. I could import, format and publish my blog in a day. Otherwise it will no doubt take me months to prepare to send my manuscript around to publishers, who probably wouldn't even take the time to read it anyway. OH, ANOTHER BLOGGER?? What makes my blog so motherfucking special? Because it's written by a homeless man about his crummy life on the streets? People are trying to take their minds off street dwellers. They're in denial about their uncertain futures. Remember, I'm everyone's Boogie Man. Why buy my book?

Further, I used hundreds of uncopyrightable images in my blog that I've culled off the Internet. While my site is not all that big and popular, the chances of the owners of these pics coming to complain copyright infringement is just about nil. But raise that number exponentially with the publishing of them in a book, and Houston, we have a problem. FUCK!! All this work that I was investing my time into is circling around the commode drain. Should I go any further with trying to present something to overwhelmed publishers, or publish the damn thing myself?

It was noon. This decision had to be shelved for the rest of the day. I was getting hungry and I took stock of my food cabinets and refrigerator. You know you have no food in the house when all you have to eat are seasonings. Begrudgingly, I dressed and headed out. The hallway was clear of the chattering assholes as I emerged and I went downstairs and into the brisk New York afternoon. A light snow was falling as I marched up to the Associated Supermarket: the smallest supermarket known to Man. The minute that I walked in I thought that I would have to punch out this dude that would not step aside as I tried to enter. I had to shoulder past him roughly. He turned around and had a comment but I ignored him and kept on trucking into the crowded store. I got microwaveable dinners, salads, steak and pork. Yeah, steak. I microwave the shit. Sometimes they come out real tough, but they're still good. From there I went to Duane Reade and got coffee and milk, and more microwaveable dinners and side dishes. Before I knew it, I had blew through $80.00. EIGHTY fucking dollars!! Jeezus. I'm on a 1700 calorie a day diet and I can't keep food in the house. This eighty dollars worth of food would not last me the month.

Disgustedly on both sides of my day, I return home to make lunch and get behind the computer again. I went back to that fucking Blurb site and looked at it again, trying to make a decision, and I see that you can construct a professionally bound 5x8 B/W book with color covers for something like $8.95 a copy. And I can buy as few or as many books as I want. This intrigued me. Remember my resolution was to (and it wasn't a New Year's resolution either) start to self publish my poetry books. Well, this could be the perfect outlet for such. I download the software called 'Book Smart' and take the tutorials and actually learn how to make a book. I use pictures from my blog that I took and form and shape out the template for the book. Then with the click of a button there was an import tool that would pull the text from nearly any goddamned source. I chose Word for Windows, and it went, got the text of my first book written: A MIND GONE TO WASTE, and poured it into my template. The import went through with only a few kinks. I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the import and adding more text and graphics until by the evening I was all done. With the click of another button I imported the damn thing to the website and I was then able to buy copies of the book at about $9.00 a pop.

Shit. I had a published book in less than a day. On Monday I'm going to put some money on my credit card and buy a few copies to see how they turned out. Yeah, if you can't beat 'em, become their whore, that's what I've always said. Now all sorts of opportunities began to open up in my mind. The sheer power of being a publisher got to me. Or now, a published writer, even if it is SELF-published. Holy shit! Now I can be like the other poets that bring their books to the poetry readings and leave them on the 'poetry tables' for sale to their fellow poets. I'm overjoyed. I can buy a few copies, say like twenty or thirty dollars worth, and resell them at poetry events. Hot damn!

And I have the material for at least five more books, which I intend to publish every last one. That's right. Get them all out and into the hands of others. I don't care how good or bad they are, they're getting out.

I am proud of myself today. I've solved one problem, created another, and went food shopping.

Not a bad day, if you ask me.

HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/01/
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Welcome NYT Bestseller Angie Fox!!

Interview by Kirsten Scott

Can I just say this? I love Angie Fox. I mean, I seriously do. First of all, she’s darn cute, super friendly, and a really great writer. She did hit the NYT Bestseller list with her debut novel, The Accidental Demon Slayer, so you might be tempted to hate her, but you just can’t. She’s that kind of person. 


I “met” Angie as a virtual member of my local RWA Chapter, the Rose City Romance Writers, and then got to meet her in person last year at Nationals. But you really meet Angie when you read her work – and can’t stop laughing from page one.

I’m delighted to host Angie today, and she’s got some fabulous prizes for us – so stick around and say hello. She can’t wait to meet you.

Angie, how did you come up with the idea for The Accidental Demon Slayer?
I started off with a kernel of an idea that amused me. What if a straight-laced preschool teacher suddenly learns she’s a demon slayer? And what if she has to learn about her powers on the run from a fifth level demon? Ohhh and wouldn’t it be fun if she’s running with her long-lost Grandma’s gang of geriatric biker witches?

Sounds like you started with a great hook, and the perfect mix of quirky characters and a unique plot. When you’re developing your novels, does plot trump character for you, or is it the other way around?
For me, it’s both. When I sat down to write The Accidental Demon Slayer, I had no notes about a sidekick for my heroine. But in the second chapter, when she’d learned she was a demon slayer and all hell was after her, she took comfort in her dog. As I was writing, I thought, ‘This is a sweet moment. Now how do I throw her off?’ Simple. I made the dog say something to her. Nothing big. After all, he’s only after the fettuccine from last week. And he knows exactly where my heroine can find it (back of the fridge, to the left of the lettuce crisper, behind the mustard).

It amused me, so I did it. Thanks to her unholy powers, my heroine can now understand her smart-mouthed Jack Russell Terrier. I had fun with it. In fact, I suspect Pirate the dog is my editor’s favorite character. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Pirate helped talk my editor into buying The Accidental Demon Slayer.

So did plot influence character? Maybe there it did. But I can tell you that as the book evolves, Pirate the dog does his share of influencing the plot too. 

I suspect Pirate is everyone’s favorite character – who can resist a Harley-riding dog? Which brings up an interesting question. How did you know you could put a dog on a Harley? Are you a Harley rider from way back, or did you have to do a lot of research for the book?
Loads, actually. I’d never been on a motorcycle before, and I had to figure out how to get Pirate the dog onto a bike! I went online and learned about the Biker Dogs Motorcycle Club, made up exclusively of Harley riders and their dogs. I ended up meeting some of them, along with a few other bikers along the way. These bikers were so great to me. They hoisted me onto the back of their Harleys (with dogs in tow). They took me to biker rallies (note to self: don’t wear pink). And they laughed at me when I tried to put my helmet on backwards (I still say I was distracted by the Pomeranian wearing a tiny pair of motorcycle glasses).

After a few outings with my new biker friends, I was able to make my geriatric biker witch characters a lot more realistic. And I took home some great pictures, too.

Now those are pictures we’d all love to see. ☺ Especially that Pom. But moving on, everyone in the Lair loves a Call story. Can you tell us yours?
I’d entered the beginning of the book in the Chicago RWA’s Four Seasons contest. Leah Hultenschmit from Dorchester was the finals judge and she requested the full. I quickly finished the last eight chapters and sent it off to her on a Thursday. Then I spent Friday on email queries to agents. When the 212 popped up on my caller ID the following Tuesday, I was elated and thought it could be an agent I’d queried. Nope. It was Leah wanting to buy The Accidental Demon Slayer.

It was the neatest feeling. But I could barely hear her because my two small children had picked that moment to battle over a lump of green Play Dough. Leah asked if I wanted her to call back and I said, “Nooo” and ducked into the garage. In August. I probably lost five pounds of water weight talking to her. So hey, a sold book and weight loss too! It was such a surreal moment to know an editor had read my book and liked it.

When I hung up with Leah, I immediately called my husband, who was in a meeting. So I called my mom, who was gone. I called several friends, who weren’t home. Then I looked at the clock and realized that we had houseguests due in just over an hour, so I grabbed a quick shower and hummed a happy tune while scrubbing toilets and picking green Play Dough off the kitchen floor.

The Accidental Demon Slayer is an absolutely hilarious and perfectly paced novel (something I could use some help with, by the way!). It was no surprise to me that it was an instant success. What was your reaction when you learned it was a New York Times bestseller?
Complete shock. The phone rang on a Friday afternoon, as I was writing the climax of the The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers, which is the sequel to The Accidental Demon Slayer. I almost didn’t answer the phone. After all, who would call in smack dab in the middle of a demon invasion?

Luckily, I picked up because it was my agent, saying that The Accidental Demon Slayer would be #34 on the New York Times list the next day. I didn’t know what to think. Heck, I’d just wanted to sell enough books so that I could keep writing about biker witches, demon slayers and talking terriers. I had to ask my agent to please email me too, just to make sure I wasn’t phone-hallucinating.

How does your family feel about your career as a romance author?
Well, I admit I had these fantasies of my husband saying things like, “Oh let me fix dinner. You look like you’re really focused on getting that dialogue right.” Or my kids saying, “Wow. Mom is a published author. We’d better not use her laptop cord as a jump rope.” Alas, my home life hasn’t changed at all. Well, other than the fact that it might be a bit strange that my four-year-old knows what an editor is. She gets calls from her “editor” on her Tinkerbell play phone.

What do we have to look forward to next from you?
I’m really excited about the release of book 2 in the Accidental Demon Slayer series, called The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers – look for it on April 28th (available for pre-order NOW on Amazon.com!). In it, the straight-laced Lizzie decides she’s going to learn everything about her powers, and at the same time, write the proverbial book on demon slaying. And, as you might have guessed – things don’t quite go according to plan.

Right now, I’m writing book 3 in the Accidental Demon Slayer series and also writing a short story for the next Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance.

Angie has generously offered to give away a signed, first edition copy of The Accidental Demon Slayer, along with a “Kiss My Asphalt” t-shirt like the one that appears in the first chapter of the book. She’s also going to be around all day to answer any questions you might have about demons, biker witches, how you get little dogs onto the back of Harleys, or how you remove green playdough from the carpet (that’s actually my questions, not Angie’s--LOL)! 

Thanks so much, Angie!


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GUILTY PLEASURES

by Jo Robertson


There’s a wonderful scene in the movie “Parenthood” where the wife of a very focused, rules-oriented man rebels against her husband’s structure by sneaking into the closet, opening a plastic box of goodies, and chomping down on a Hostess cream-filled cupcake.


She has this wonderfully defiant look on her face.

Guilty pleasures.

We all have them, right? Those things we adore, but feel a teensy bit guilty about doing? Let me share some of mine with you.




Guilty Pleasure Number One: When I was a young mother with seven kiddies ranging from 18 to 7, I often sneaked off to a movie by myself. I had a “movie purse,” just the right width and depth to fit an icy 7-11 Big Gulp, along with various snacks -- Skittles, M&M’s, maybe even a sandwich and chips. I loved the quiet, nearly empty matinee theater and the intriguing anonymity of sitting in a darkened movie by myself, chomping on my goodies.
Hint: a diaper bag like the one above works best! Oh, and be careful not to tip the bag!


I learned not to tell my friends of this penchant because, well, they thought only weirdos went to a movie alone. Ha! Not so. I’ve found that many people like to do this. Or only maybe people with large families who want to escape. By the way, I always saw lots of working-class men there, especially if the movie playing was an action flick.


Guilty Pleasure Number Two: Pepsis. See GP#1 above. Fully-loaded with sugar and caffeine, none of that diet stuff for me. Sigh. This is more an addition than a guilty pleasure. I wonder if they’ve invented a patch that would help me kick the habit?



Guilty Pleasure Number Three: Dexter. This wickedly funny and brilliantly witty and macabre drama show about a serial killer who targets only bad people aired on Showtime network. It's in its third season, but you can buy seasons one and two on DVD. The writing is superb!


Guilty Pleasure Number Four: Romance books with covers of sexy men. Damn it! Why should this be a “guilty” pleasure?
I read Anna Campbell’s Tempt the Devil on my recent trip to New York and felt compelled to hide the cover of this gorgeous man on the front. But I wanted to stand up in the aisle and shout, “Yes, I’m reading one of THOSE books and I LOVE the cover, damn you all!”

I didn’t. So those books remain my guilty pleasures.
Here are some fellows I'd love to see on the cover of a romance novel. I persuaded each of them to take his shirt off just for this photo session! Enjoy!


What about you?
What are your guilty pleasures?

Reading in a hot, scented bath with candles and your favorite book?
Shopping – can anyone spell S-H-O-E-S?
Sunbathing even though you know it’s bad, bad, bad for your skin?
Chocolate? Ice cream?
And don't forget today's the last day of the Bandita Invasion at RNTV. Join us there for lots of fun, good company, and a chance at prizes.
That's http://www.romancenovel.tv/wordpress/rntv/marias-blog/

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And the Winnah is....

Jeanne: Hi Everyone! My fabulous friend Heidi Betts let her cats choose the winners...okay, not the most standard way to do it, but....Here's what she posted:
From Heidi: Let's see...little pieces of paper everywhere, cats picked...
Laurie
Jo
Terrio
Congratulations, ladies! Please visit the Backlist page of my website (http://www.heidibetts.com/books/index.php/back) & pick a title you’re interested in...& this does include the HOTTER THAN HELL anthology...then e-mail me (heidi@heidibetts.com) with your book choice & mailing info, & I’ll get your prizes right out to you!
Jeanne: Also, from my blog in early January, I realized I totally forgot to pick a winner!
So...Gannon, drop me an email at Jeanne AT JeanneAdams DOT com and give me your snail mail so you can get some slurpy Godiva!
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Countdown Booty!!

A fabulous soiree at the Ritz ... a Top Chef challenge ... a chocolate party ... a Sydney Harbour cruise ... a luau! So many fabulous party ideas -- and I got woozy just reading the various cocktail concotions y'all came up with. Yummy! I'm going to be taste testing all weekend.


The most intriguing idea for me was the murder mystery party, and there were lots of variations on that theme. I loved them all! But I'm going to go with the lovely lady who called it first ...


Elyssa!!


... as well as the crazy darling who took that theme to its most insanely funny conclusion, with a feathered creature leading the entire Bandita Brigade on a worldwide food fest ...


Louisa!!


Now, that would be the end of the prizes -- but then someone special went and created her very own HOMICIDE IN HARDCOVER party page, complete with men in kilts, gladiators, and oh my, cabana boys! Plus fabulous food, a delectible cocktail treat, and sensational fashions for everyone! So I'm thrilled to give away a third gift certificate to ...


Dianna!!


Congratulations, ladies!! Email me at katecarlisle99@yahoo.com and I'll send your $15.00 Amazon gift certificates back to you by email!


Thanks so much to everyone for your fabulous ideas. Be sure to come back on Tuesday for the HOMICIDE IN HARDCOVER launch party extravaganza!!
Source URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/01/
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Dick Caught In The Wringer

I blew therapy off today so hard that I didn't even care.

Sometimes I feel a stark sense of regret when I blow off one of my sessions, some serious remorse that I'm doing something bad, but today, I couldn't give a shit. This made for three. All three, blown off this week. Not good, but necessary. I need a break from people being in my head sometimes. I feel like I should have a revolving door on my forehead and have psychs walk in and out of there and set up tables and chairs and treat my skull like a lunchroom. Sometimes you just get tired, you know. It's not easy opening up every week and have someone listen so as to examine you.

I also blew off doing my laundry for another week. Now retreads will be the norm for next week. There is nothing more grueling than doing laundry in the coin op around the corner. I am indeed fucking lazy to have a laundromat so close to my home and not use it. The only thing that I use regularly is the fucking microwave.

I stayed online until there was an altercation in the hallway. I took off my headsets to hear Paula threatening one of her girlfriends in the hall, claiming that: 'I will slap the shit out of you bitch!' Amusing. Another, voice cooed in the background for her to calm down, while a third called her a crazy ass. I didn't hear anything ignite into a catfight, so I assumed the calming voice diffused the situation. If a catfight did break out I would open my door and stick my head out.

Funny, ever since junior highschool, us boys loved watching a catfight, something I carry with me to this day. We would come running, shouting to others: "Catfight, catfight!!" Rushing to the fight, not to break it up, but to get the best position to watch it. Two women fighting just draws men like flies to shit. Why is that?? I sometimes wonder, and now I shake my head. It wasn't anything sexual, or so I believe, because Paula and her mugwomp friends look like Creatures from the Black Lagoon. Not that I'm bragging about looks, but I'd rather fuck my own ass than have a wet dream about any one of them. But to watch them fight, I'll buy a ticket and popcorn.

Besides hopefully this would put an end to their congre- gating in the hall. If they hate each other then they'll stop talking to each other across their doors. This could be good news at last. I put my headsets back on and get busy. I work on my new blog manuscript that at present has no name. I'm thinking: DICK CAUGHT IN THE WRINGER, or EVERYBODY'S BOOGIE MAN. But right now I just have 'untitled' on the manuscript.

'Dick caught in the wringer' is obvious, but why, 'Everybody's Boogie Man'? Well I had this discussion with a friend of mine about how my life is more like a cautionary tale. And that to end up like me is the worst possible outcome for anyone to experience. I've become associated with what everyone is terrified over when they lose their job. I've become everyone's Boogie Man. I guess if I have to explain it, it's not that hot a title then. Right?

I got tired and crawled into bed and took a nap, suffering from eyestrain and a growing tension headache, although the cutting, pruning and pasting of the manuscript was pretty easy. I loaded up damn near one hundred pages, and covered two months worth of blogging in one sitting. I decided that that was enough. Tomorrow, I have my Doctor's appointment, and I'll most likely spend the entire day in the library, like I used to. I am moving further and further away from my homeless roots, my past routines.

I no longer eat with the Skeksies, shower at the Bowery Mission, eat dinner from food vans, get clothes from churches. I'm moving towards a productive member of society slowly but surely. If I can get a paying writing gig, that would just make the process go that much faster.

That's what's bothering me about today. Yesterday I sent out two emails to prospective gigs and today, nothing. Not a damn reply. Jobs are so scarce out there that even the NON PAYING GIGS are drying up. Well, at least the stimulus package passed the HOUSE today although the Republicans were all against it. You know, I wonder if these representatives and senators were faced with layoffs, would they hurry up and run SOMETHING, ANYTHING though? This is supposed to be a government for the people, BY the people, but I can't help but to think how far these career politicians have strayed from 'the people' and have now moved over to power drunk. Like Blogojevich, who was no doubt sitting on a cushy job, selling and buying influence and not giving a fuck about how the government was run, and if he was putting authority in capable hands. That's the problem with politicians. They no longer govern, but rule.

Well, that's me on my soapbox now. It's time to step down and get ready for bed. I have a big day tomorrow. I get to hear how my blood pressure is and my progress. Already I'm leaning to blowing off my doctor's appointment. I just hope I get up in enough time. Right now it's a toss up between playing 2142 or working on the blog manuscript again, and I'm leaning more in the direction of the blog manuscript.

Can you believe that? Just yesterday it was too big a task to deal with, and today, I have something to putter around with.

Life is funny isn't it?

Aloha
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/01/
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