Friday, February 20, 2004
I'm playing Rasputina's "The New Zero" over and over on iTunes, trying ver, very hard to concentrate on the cellos instead of the way my stomach and bowels feel. Possible Lesson: perhaps I'm too old to drink tequila the way I used to drink tequila. There's not much else worth saying about yesterday. No progress was made on the Murder of Angels ms., but I did drink tequila. We also went over to Piedmont Park about 4 p.m. It was still fairly warm out, and sunny, but I was way too drunk to walk up and down hills, so we came how again. Today I will atone for yesterday's indiscretions.
Sometimes, days are lost, and there's nothing you can do to bring them back for a second try.
Did I mention dozing off to Fiddler on the Roof? No? Then it probably wasn't important.
Today we'll do chapters Ten and Eleven and the epilogue. No, really. This time we really will. No frelling about. I think I must have broken all nine of the Seven Deadly Sins of Writing yesterday. I also skipped my workout and forgot to eat dinner. Today I will endeavor not to behave as though I were twenty-two.
Though, I must say, at least it's a comfort to know that tequila hasn't lost its ability to slow time and muddy the jagged edges of perception. But I think I shall stick to absinthe, for a while.
Spooky's doing sketches of the next incarnation of Nar'eth. She (Spooky, not Nar'eth) came in here just a moment ago to show me that one of the sketches had come out look looking like the lovechild of Nar'eth and Gigi Edgley. Then she added a big bushy tail and I began imagining the misbegotten spawn of a Nebari and a Lombax. I suppose, at some point, Nar'eth might have wound up on Veldin in all her planet-hopping...
Most of the lightbulbs in the apartment have blown over the past two days. That happens sometimes. We have these mildly weird epidemics of blown lightbulbs. It means that someone an expedition to the frelling store must be mounted. If only some geek somewhere would genetically engineer a bioluminescent koi species. We could hang them in glorious fish-bowl chandeliers and they'd last for decades and decades, bathing us in their gentle yellow-green glow. But I suppose that's entirely too practical. Better we use these temperamental light bulbs, prone, as they are, to going nova.
To date, the most popular items in the Species of One shop are the women's and long-sleeved Low Red Moon T-shirts and the "Ugliest Cat in the World" mug. Join the revolution. It's cheap. (How's that for a slogan? Darren Stevens, eat your heart out!)