ella

It was as I expected, a pretty intense and deepening experience to find out that it was Ella that was in there, growing. Forgive the poetic license, but that's sure as hell how it felt. "It's a girl," the technician said. "Ella," I thought. "That's Ella in there." And, yeah, it all became so much more real. It was like one of those moments in film where the hero suddenly puts all the pieces of a puzzle together and there are a hundred quick cuts that show this build up of realization. Only this was me looking forward and imagining the future — tying shoes, holding hands walking down the street, calling out "Ella!" to her down the hall in another room, and her running in with her long hair and standing in the doorway looking at me. My imagination couldn't go much past the age of about five or six, but it was enough to fill me up. I fell in love with my daughter at that moment. I can't imagine what it's going to be like when she's born. I can't even begin to fathom how deep this is going to go.

There's a song — I Love Eleanor — by Wes Cunningham that I always thought was way too goopy. On an album full of mostly decent power pop with sarcastic lyrics it suck way out. I usually skipped it. I was happy he was in love, but c'mon... It came into my mind about a week ago. I played it for Amy last night — she'd heard it before at some point and vaguely remembered it — and suddenly it didn't seem overly goopy. Amy and I lay in bed singing it to our daughter before we drifted off.

It wasn't a very good night's sleep for me. Possibly because it seems like no matter how little alcohol I have, it makes sleeping difficult for me these days. I had one Jack & Ginger over dinner with G and Harry. Or it might have been the fact that I had an insanely frustrating night of poker with The Guys. Aside from the money I lost (and I know what comes around goes around, so I'm not worried about that) I couldn't get anything going, it seemed. I'm usually buzzing after a night of poker, but a night of losing poker is even worse as I replay the hands I should have folded and the bets I shouldn't have made. Or, perhaps, it was that I suddenly realized that the words to that song are true:

I love Eleanor
She's the girl I'm living for
And nothing matters anymore
But lovely Eleanor

I will do anything and everything for my not-even-born-yet daughter, to make her life as happy and rich as I can. This means that I have some work to do — on all kinds of things, too numerous to mention here.

The whole world needs to know
How much I love her
My heart
Overflows

It occurs to me that I've always said that I expected and wanted that moment when I would cross the line into adulthood. I think I see that line now. I think it'll be crossed on or around May 15th. I'm more scared and excited than I think I have ever been in my life.

It's fantastic. And she hasn't even been born yet!

I hope she looks like her mama.

favorite songs of 2006

Wow. A lot to say today. A lot of things going on in my mind since yesterday's appointment when we found out that we're having a girl. (See the other blog for pics ... and a song!)

I've got a lot of work to do here today, though, so I'm not sure I'll get to put down my thoughts any time soon.

But here's the music post I was promising. Link at the bottom to a large (100+ megs) zip file with all the songs. Of course, after listening to the songs you should destroy the mp3s and go buy all of the albums. That goes without saying, doesn't it?

So... this is a list that I took a little care in compiling. I'm not saying these are the best songs of the past year, or that this is the order in which I would rank them. These are the tunes that I kept finding myself listening to over and over again on the iPod. The ones that, when I'd see the artist's name pass by, would make me u-scroll and head back up to listen for the tenth time that day. At the bottom there's a link to a zipped file with all the tracks. Merry Christmas!

"Atlantic" — Keane (from Under the Iron Sea)
Not sure if this is my favorite tune of the new album, but it's got a kind of grandeur (love the drums) and scope that is a welcome change from their sometimes too-twee first album.

"Feels Just Like it Should" and "Black Devil Car" — Jamiroquai (from Dynamite)
I couldn't decide between these two head-bobbing, butt-shaking tunes. Justin Timberlake brought sexy back? Give me a fucking break. Saying something is true ain't nothing compared to the dirty funk of "FJLIS." As with most of Jamiroquai's stuff, I can take or leave most of the album, but these two scratch a funk itch.

"The Good Day" — Elbow (from Forget Myself cdsingle)
I had to put something by the lads in here. Their last album came out last year, but this single came out in 2006 and it's a great, fairly straight-forward rocker that was fan-fucking-tastic in concert. One of the best concerts I've been to, which only solidified my überfandom for these guys. Truth be told, the album this is a b-side from is probably still my most-played album this year as well.

"Hey Now Now" — The Cloud Room (from The Cloud Room)
These guys opened for Elbow when we saw them this Summer. I downloaded several tracks of theirs before going and this was the one that stood out and has stuck since. The lyrics make no sense, but I don't hold that against it. The new tunes they played at the concert show a much more interesting future ahead for them, I hope. (Meaning: I might want to actually get their entire next album instead of this one song.)

"How We Operate" — Gomez (from How We Operate)
These guys are the shit. They just get better and better. "HWO" is a good melding of their sometimes awkward experimental tunes and straightforward rock-pop.

"Dear Old Song & Dance" — Tim Easton (from Ammunition)
Easton's latest album is a lo-fi minor disappointment, but this is a great song about his late break with drugs and alcohol.

"Upside Down" — Jack Johnson (from Sing-Alongs & Lullabies for the Film Curious George)
Yeah, it's a kid's album. Yeah, it's unabashedly sunny and cheery. You got a problem with that? Yeah? I'm sorry. Listen to this song, and maybe it'll cheer ya up.

"Time Bomb" — The Format (from God Problems)
This is one of those tunes that I randomly came across on a music blog sometime this year. Bombastic pseudo-ELO pop that I find I never listen to less than twice in a row when I put it on.

"Chinese Translation" — M. Ward (from Post-War)
Stumbled on this when someone sent me the link to the video, which is beautiful and fits the song like a ... Chinese glove? Anyway, apparently most of the world has known about M. Ward for several albums. The full-length this song is from is very good, if you like music that sounds as if it was pulled through a hole in space-time from about sixty years ago, with a modern folk tinge.

"In My Arms" — Snow Patrol (from Eyes Open — UK bonus track)
The Snow Patrol is about as Emo as I'm willing to go. They're mopey, yes, but they have some crunch in their guitar. This is a b-side that is more subtle and interesting than the new album it wasn't on.

"When You Were Young" — The Killers (from Sam's Town)
Fun pop-rock. A bit unescapable if you see Mtv at all (I watch it at the gym without sound). Don't think too hard about this one.

"Three More Days" — Ray LaMontagne (from Til the Sun Turns Black)
Ray's new album is pretty mopey and downtempo. There's nothing wrong with that, especially as we launch into Winter. But this track is a welcome upbeat aside. Love his voice. Love it. I command you.

"Consolation Prizes" — Phoenix (from It's Never Been Like That)
From my favorite Summer album this past year. A bunch of French kids who make playful rock. I grabbed their latest album because of their great track on the Lost in Translation soundtrack. Good sun-drenched tunes.

"The Crane Wife 1 and 2" — The Decemberists (from The Crane Wife)
I love this album. Sure they're hyper-literate and, at times too dry and smart for their own good, but something clicked for me with this one. And this track is a fantastic 11:26 telling of the title story. Base a movement of songs on an obscure Japanese folk tale? Why the hell not?

"Death is the Road to Awe" — Clint Mansell (from The Fountain OST)
I've only had this soundtrack since the day after I saw the movie, but I've listened to it at least once a day since. It echoes the angst and sorrow of the film, and this track — which plays during the climax of the movie — gives me chills every time it reaches the explosive ending. ymmv.

Download ChristmasMix2006

today

Today is the big day. Well, today is A big day. Today we have the ultrasound that — if the child cooperates — well tell us what flavor of baby we're going to have. It will tell us what the sex of the infant that we are going to raise to functional adulthood, keeping it alive and happy, explaining how the world works, and being it's primary source of answers and safety.

Well, when you put it like that it's a little more daunting.

Regardless of the angst and stress associated with the forthcoming Riedy (and it wouldn't be a Riedy without angst and stress!) I'm thrilled and jazzed to find out whether the babe is avec or sans penis. (Any feminists among my Rieders — this is a typo I am deciding to keep — feel free to write me an angry letter about how a woman is not just a man without a dongle. As if I don't know this. As if I don't only write things I think are somehow clever and/or amusing, regardless of how you insensitive types take it. Wussies.) I just hope the kid will spread its legs and give us a nice clear shot of the crotchular area so we can be sure and safe in our naming decisions.

There have been layers of ... how to say ... acceptance? No. Belief? No. Investment? Well, it's a bit dry but that about covers it. There have been layers of investment in Amy's growing belly. In the first trimester, it didn't feel real at times. There would be hours during which the basic underlying fact of the pregnancy would slip out of my mind. And when I would think about it, I was afraid to really bet on it, for fear that something would happen. I have known many friends and loved ones who have had that something happen, and I was backing off on being too excited until the dangerous First Trimester passed.

And then it did pass. And the belly did start to grow (quite early to our slight shock and the kind of worry that all pre-parents must go through — wondering if something is wrong because it doesn't seem normal somehow). And I started talking to it and cradling it with my hand when Amy and I would spoon on the couch or in bed. Everything started to seem more real (and I started freaking out slightly more, wondering what preparations I should be making, and feeling like I was starting out behind and didn't know what to be doing. I'm still somewhat in that phase. I'm wondering if that phase ever goes away. Maybe when the kid moves out.)

But today we're going to see him or her up on that screen and I already feel like this is going to be huge. Once we can call him or her by name, then ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WE GOT A BABY ON THE WAY!

There will be pictures later. Maybe tomorrow.

the season

Today was our office Christmas party. I wasn't looking forward to it. I was looking forward to the short day — the party started at 4 p.m. I was going to duck out around 5 and head up to Avalon to pick up my Big Check for Crosspix that they're holding for me. (I said I'd come pick it up rather than having them mail it. That way I can ooooh and ahhhh right away and then sprint to the bank and deposit it as soon as possible.) I thought about leaving right as the party started, actually. Duck out quick and nobody would miss me. Maybe tomorrow they'd ask "Were you there?" and I'd say "Yeah, I was there for a while. Didn't you see me?" But, no, I decided that I should make an effort to be social.

I went downstairs to the bar and got a nice, strong Jim Beam and Ginger Ale and forced myself into a conversation or two. It went well. I came across, I think, as a normal human being. The alcohol helped, I think. I spoke with a few people in my department that with whom I've never had conversations. I said a few funny things which actually made people laugh. It was good.

Again, I wonder why it's only in these "special circumstances" that I'm able to relax — as if I'm only given permission to let go of my day to day stress at certain times. (Well, okay, I can't have Jim & Ginger at work every day. Or can I...?) I need to learn to let go and shrug off the daily yolk and interact with people. Relax for fuck's sake.

i have (had) a dream

I had a strange dream this morning. It seems like there was more at the beginning, but all I remember is this: I am an old man and am running down a grassy slope, onto a small wooden dock that reaches into a large pond surrounded by trees. I jump into the water. I am trying to drown. I drop further and further down. I am trying to gasp and pull water into my lungs. No water will come in. I reach the bottom of the pond, and there is a stone wall ahead of me. There are rectangular holes dug out of the wall and I am trying to swim into one. I no longer appear to need oxygen. I am not dying. I don't need to breathe. Frustrated, I start to ascend back to the top of the pond.

– – –

A longer post tomorrow, I promise. I'm working on a long post that I hope to have up sometime this week, recapping my favorite songs from the past year (with links!).

vodka and cookies

Whelp, it only took a week for me to run out of ideas (aka: "things about myself to complain about") to write about in the blog.

So... let's go ramblin'!

Couldn't sleep last night. Had a few drinks with a good friend along with some fertile conversation (I think we came close to figuring out world peace) and then spent the rest of the night baking cookies with Amy for this cookie swapping party we're going to tomorrow afternoon. I, of course, ate far too many peanut butter drop cookies and snickerdoodles.

Judge me not! They are possibly my two favorite cookies. (Well, I've grown to really love gingersnaps — and anything ginger-y. And there's always chocolate chip cookies, too. Hell, I just like cookies. Except with raisins. The squishy texture of the raisin is not good in the cookie context. Raisins alone? Great. In things? Bad. Why, for instance, would you put raisins on a salad? Salads are for crunchy things. Not squishy things. And cookies are for ... well, they're not for squishy things either. That's for sure. And one last note on cookies: a chocolate chip cookie is not complete without walnuts. The same goes for brownies. I dare you to argue with me on this point.)

Other than that... I'm looking forward to the weekend like a high school senior in mid-May looks forward to graduation (the astute reader, and all of my readers are astute, will note that I'm writing this on company time, which is just further evidence of my bored-itude). I just want to couch my mind (yes, I will be using "couch" as a verb in this blog without shame, and not in the usual sense of the word. You'll just have to deal with it. Be strong.) and look up things on the internet... like that cooking class that G and I are going to take. And more information about this book I bought last night: Getting Things Done. I will become more organized in my life. Perhaps then I can, in fact, move forward on some of these projects that are paralyzing me.

Have a good weekend, faithful reader. All... both of you.

reflection

One of the things I became aware of during therapy was that my behavior affected other people. You'd think that that'd be pretty obvious, but it wasn't to me. Basically I try to be invisible to people; I try not to call attention to myself when I'm not feeling comfortable. I just won't say anything or have any opinions, I'll duck out of being somewhere when I can do it with little fuss, etc. I think I do this because it puts me in fewer positions where I have to deal with people, and fewer times when I am called upon to "prove myself" or my abilities. (And we're talking basic "abilities" here -- like the ability to talk to other people, not just having to do with showing I can design or act or write, etc.) For the longest time I lived under the assumption that if I pull myself away, that nobody would notice and it would be like I wasn't there. Of course, that's not the case.

We affect people. The things we do or say, or don't do or say. It's impossible for us to ghost through life and not impact anyone.

Why am I bringing this up now? No specific reason, I guess. I have been thinking a lot about what has been holding me back from writing and from being more active in finding a new job. I also grabbed my camera this morning to take some pictures to put up here on the blog —

The blog design seems so dull and empty. Maybe I will figure out how to make some changes to jazz it up some. I tried some other templates yesterday and didn't like any of 'em. Ended up back with this one... which I kind of like. It's just very generic.

— and the only picture I liked was the one at the top of this post. That's the train coming into the 50th street station and that shadow is me, taking the picture. So I decided that I would use that as a jumping off point.

I opened this window in TextEdit and have been writing off and on today. And the idea of reflection seemed like a good one to write about.

This is something that I've always used, too, as a distancing tool: talk or write about what you're talking or writing about, as opposed to actually moving forward in the conversation. You're able to talk and talk about talking and it looks like your conversational feet are moving, but really you're standing in place. Eventually you end up hunched over and your nose is practically inside your navel.

So... how we affect other people and my personal thang about it...

The couch is a very safe place to be (comfy as well). Sitting in that room, alone, with just me and the tv, me and the PS2, or me and a book... nobody knows I'm there and nobody expects anything from me while I'm there. A lot of the time I'm able to be there and not expect anything from myself. But, as I was saying yesterday... that only lasts for so long. There is, still, a desire in me to do something more than sit and consume. I'm still trying to figure out what, exactly, I want to be doing with that desire — where I want to point it. I'm trying not to fall back into that soft trap of deciding what to do instead of doing something. I need to make a decision and get on with it. Christmas is coming soon, and there's not much time to work right now anyway, so I'm going to say that by January 1 I will decide what I'm going to do with my creative energies — meaning I'll pick a project (or 2).

There we go. That right there is worth doing this blog. Putting my thoughts down, getting them out of my head, is the only way I seem to be able to make any concrete choices. Of course, having somebody reading (and I think somebody is reading) helps force me to act.

That doesn't really solve the problem of getting me to accept the ripples in the world I make, but that's not so much a problem as a lifestyle choice that I have to become aware of and need to start changing bit by little bit, if I want to be different.

Speaking of ripples... it's funny how those therapy sessions are still resonating with me today, some — what? — ten years down the line. "Expectations expectations expectations"... "you have an effect on people"... "anger issues"... I think about them all the time. Well, when I'm not on the couch, not thinking.

Enough for now.

just thinking outloud here

Thinking a lot lately about what I want out of my life and what I'm willing to do to get it. I'm in a job that I don't particularly like, doing very little design work and mostly pushing pixels for other people. It's just this side of deadening. If I got along better with the people here, it'd probably help. But what am I willing to do to get out of this situation? Am I willing to break out of my comfort zone? Can I get myself off the couch?

My disappointment with my situation and myself comes and goes in waves. Sometimes I just want to rest and do nothing. I have allowed myself to do that too often, at times. It's become my default setting. I fear that Amy and I are too similar in this regard — things take us a long time to do when they're complicated or just difficult to do for whatever reason (see: wedding thank yous, putting shelves up in our closet, etc.).

And yet, at times, I can rise to the occasion. The greatest thing, perhaps, about doing that Crosspix book is that it forced me to work my ass off. I had to grab every spare minute and worked myself into a migraine at the finish of it. It was fantastic. I mean that. Seriously. I haven't been that intensely focussed on something in a long time.

And isn't that part of what makes a good life? To have goals — to have finish lines to cross — and to accomplish them, to cross them. It gives you meaning to have things to look forward to, whether it be a vacation, or a holiday, or the completion of something... especially something that is taxing, that makes you confront your boundaries, something that challenges you.

I have been bad about making deadlines, about setting goals for myself. I live too much in my head — in my tiny thoughts — and not enough out in the world, pushing things around, making things. Underneath all this increasingly soft exterior, inside the dark recesses of my cry-baby heart and the tangled weirdness that is my brain, there are stories I want to tell... things I want to create.

I am more than this job, or the small choices I make in my life. There's much more potential (I hate that word) and much more possibility (better word) in me. Get off the damned couch, Dave.

the fountain

Just came back from seeing The Fountain — the latest movie by Darren Aronofsky. I was blown away.

Maybe it hit me harder because I was alone (Amy has work tonight and then her work Christmas party) and so I took it more personally. But I felt it was like falling into a painting. Plenty has been written in the reviews about how beautiful some of the imagery is. But what I've not read about is how intensely sad the movie is. It's a movie about loss and death, and the fact of those two inevitabilities permeates every frame of the movie, while Jackman's character fights ferociously to overcome them. (Jackman is very good in the movie — there's so much emoting and intensity required of him and I never thought it was forced or unearned.) Even the ending, which is about renewal and rebirth and hope is bought at a cost.

I'm not going to try to analyze the movie too much. It was like moving into a painting — beyond the surface image and into the brush strokes where you could feel the emotion behind each placement of pigment. The intention, and the emotional drive behind this film was very clear and resonated with me. What a beautiful, sad, transcendent movie.

Just found this quote by Aronofsky about the movie, which I think is pretty great:

“I think that we've got this tiny window that we're here, alive on this planet, in this universe, and one of the best things we can do with that time is love. And, it's the biggest cliché, but it's true. It's that great victory that makes us human. Not to say that other creatures don't have it... but it's definitely ours as well to have. I think it is one of the great things about humanity.

And, for me, this is a film about what makes us human. There are two things in this film that make us human — and that's being able to love and being able to die. How they play out and intermingle is what makes the film's story.”

[clever title here]

I've got Aimee Mann singing Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas to me over the computer speakers. We got our tree yesterday and decorated it. Put up the bells on the inside of the front door — something we did once, I think, when I was a kid and loved it. When I realized that I could have that every year and that people actually sold such things I was thrilled.

Christmas is the one holiday that I really get excited to celebrate. Thanksgiving is nice. Lots of football and food and relaxing. My birthday is okay, I guess, but I also find it stressful in a stupid way. And, technically, that's not a holiday. I mean, it's not celebrated by everyone (as it should be). But Christmas... Christmas I like.

And no, it's not the presents. Every year I get asked what I want and I don't really have an answer. Sure, there are things I'd like to have. Things I covet, even. But whether or not I get them, ultimately, isn't that important (said the guy who just spend $2k on a new tv — but I agonized over spending that money, okay?)

But, no, really, I don't care that much. My favorite part of the holiday — the thing I look forward to every year — is that for that week or so, everything stops. The world I live in comes to a complete halt. There are places I have to be, maybe... some social responsibilities, perhaps. But that's nothing. When the world stops, those are enjoyable. Because it's only at those times when I really, really relax. That is the time when I can appreciate my life and the people around me. Christmas is one of those rare times when I can let go of that constant muscular tightening around my chest and my shoulders. I smile more easily.

I wish I could take that feeling and live like that throughout the year, and just enjoy more. But we're going to have a child. I have a feeling that relaxing isn't on the agenda any time soon. But that's okay. Some things are worth the price — I would willing give whatever I have to give for this gift that's not coming until next spring.

What do I want for Christmas? For Amy and the baby to be healthy. For me to know how to be a good father.

something else

Walking back from lunch today —

And, you know, I'm sick of what I eat. Especially for lunch. Since moving to this new location, I haven't found anyplace nearby that does good decent salads, or a good deli to get reasonably priced sandwiches. I find myself getting pizza more often than I should. I've even... eaten at McDonald's a time or two. I feel disgusting. Don't touch me.

— I walked through a group of teenage kids with learning disabilities. A woman approximately my age was holding the hand of a boy and telling a girl named Julia to catch up with everyone. It was a noisy group — chatting, hopping up and down, making broad gestures. I caught the teacher's eye (I assume she was a teacher) for a second and smiled at her. I was trying to say something with that smile, I guess. Something along the lines of "hey I think what you're doing is great." As if she'd care. As if she'd know what I was smiling about.

I wish my job was more significant. I wish I was up to doing what I think would be more significant. Come to think of it, I'm going to be helping to raise a child soon. So, you know, check that one off I guess. That's pretty damned significant.

Lookee there. Problem solved.

Still thinking a lot about writing. Still going to bed thinking about the time play. Next week I'm going to spend some time next week working on the play (in other words... writing) and we'll see how that goes. It's been a while since I've put any pressure on myself to do anything creative like that. I'm going to take it as it comes and just try to move forward best I can.

Note to G: I haven't forgotten or given up on our project. That's a gimme. This is just something I have to do for myself.

Have a great weekend, y'all.

twosday (thursday)

Woke this morning with a bit of a Jerry Maguire hangover. Had I said too much writing in here last night? Had I made a mistake putting myself out there? I have to write in here every day? Jebus. Ah, well. Move on.

This morning, waiting for the train to take me down to work —

And can I just say that there's a certain kind of weird symmetry to the fact that I'm now taking the red line again. When I first moved here, I commuted to the job at the hospital on 168th street, then to E.S.T. on 52nd street, then back home to 114th street most every day. There's some residual emotions that still hum in the background at that station. I did a lot of heavy lifting in that underground cave those first couple of years. Odd to feel a kind of circle closing there, and to be able to recognize the distance I've travelled while coming back to the same place.

— I recognized someone standing on the platform just down from me. I had my headphones on and was murmuring along with David Gray and did a distant stare past him, but know I knew him from somewhere. He was never a friend, but a multiply-met acquaintance, I think.

I thought about what it would be like to approach him. What would I say? How awkward would that be? And why is there no chance that I was going to do that?

For a moment I thought about breaking that cycle, but was never seriously considering it. I thought about Amy's friend Bryan, and how he inevitably runs into people he knows when you're walking with him and there's always a joyful reconnection there. And I thought about how I distance myself from people whenever I can. Like here at work. I've been here for nine months and I don't really have any friends. There are some positive vibes between me and some people, but I've never actually made any effort. Partly because I always feel like people don't like me. But, on the platform this morning, it occured to me: I don't think I give off a "socially uncomfortable" vibe too often. People are often surprised when I say how uncomfortable I am around most people. And, so, I think that how people "experience me" is that I seem like a socially competent person who is choosing not to interact with them — and they think that's because I don't think that they're worth the time or that I'm too good for them. I have heard that people think I'm stuck up.

I think this is all connected with what I was talking about yesterday — that I need to get back to forcing myself to be in uncomfortable situations, and to stretch that cocoon I have wrapped myself in.

Thanks for the encouraging emails and the comments, folks. Felt good to get 'em.

beginagain

I've tried to start this five or six times already. This time I'm going to stick with it. The thing is, everything always sounds better in my head. Taking the time to put it down, something interferes or judges or edits and then I go off in directions that I never intended. What I was thinking was that I feel jittery and unsatisfied most of the time these days. The only times I don't are when I'm medicating with food or books or tv or work or the internet. I keep my mind off the fact that I'm traveling forward in time without choosing a direction.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy as buttons about the baby. I'm pleased about the book. I'm fairly thrilled at all the money I've made this year by making myself sit down at this computer at night. Those are all good things. And I think I can appreciate that.

But I'm not really happy with myself, where I am right now. Emotionally and creatively I'm stalled. I'm in a holding pattern. I'm not moving. You get the drift.

I re-read the first complete draft of the Time play that I started working on a couple years ago — the last big project that I attempted before petering out. (Unless you count the lobster girl musical. And the fairy tale movie script. But that's not important right now.) And I found some bits, some scenes and passages that had some fire and some interesting things going on in them. It made me think that, perhaps, I actually could work on the play again and exorcise it.

I think about it every night before I go to bed. That is not an exaggeration, or said just for effect. I spend a few minutes before I drift off, trying to figure out how to re-imagine it, or start over again. How to fix it. How to make it not a failure.

Somewhere along the way my world has gotten smaller. We go out less. I am less comfortable in unfamiliar situations, with unfamiliar people. I don't extend myself like I used to. I used to force myself to try things, or to be in difficult situations. Now I tend toward couch. Couch has become my basic state of being: comfortable, not forward-moving, safe.

I'm trying to fill that hole that I always feel aching. I'm using the food. The tv. The work. What ever I can grab. I've been trying to plug up the hole, when what I really need to do is start blowing shit out of it. I've been inhaling for far far too long. Taking life in. Taking other stories in.

I wrote last night for the first time in a long long time. Just about a page and a half. And I really liked the first line. I think I may have figured out a good first line to start the play. It's about the story. It's about the main character. It works. Or at least it works for now and I can move forward on it. I did run into a snag about one of the other characters. I've never really decided how I want to handle her. So tonight I ate too many crackers and then went for a walk. Just around the neighborhood. Tried to focus my mind on the problem, and not the scary guys giving me the eye on tenth avenue as I walked by the bodega they were loitering with sinister intent in front of.

I think I may have come up with a way to deal with her so I can move forward. But I'm too afraid to write right now. So I decided to percolate up here, to resurrect B&G, which I have missed very much at times.

In fact, I'm going to make a commitment right here and now: I am going to write every weekday on B&G starting today until we go away on December 27th to Michigan. There may be bonus postings on weekends, but I'm not making any promises.

So, I'm sending this link to you people. Yes you. The people reading this. Hopefully that'll help me keep my promise. I gotta shake things up and get things fizzing and get it out.

Boggles & Cockles is back. Thanks for reading and responding.