A loose compilation of thoughts
about things (08/19/02):

08/19/02, 9:41 p.m.: Shhh. Don't tell anyone I'm here. I've just popped in for a moment. Now that Neverwinter Nights is over, my time at the computer isn't spent madly booting up and trying to get my half-orc barbarian to level up. And after a night where work was insane and I came home completely totalled, I decided to update this page for a minute. I've found myself surfing the web restlessly, again and again, like someone staggering at the edge of the incoming tide, looking for something. When this happens in bookstores, I know what it means. I'm looking for the book I should be writing. Likewise, when I spend this much time on the web, it means I'm looking for my page, all nice and new and updated, glistening like a tidal pool in the night, filled with secret things that have washed up from the deep...

Things are pretty good, silence on the webfront notwithstanding. Edi is ridiculously great and wonderful and it's really nice although a little disorienting--I've walked so far away from the landmarks of all my previous relationships I'm quite thoroughly lost and half-expecting to drop dead because, well, that's what I think hopelessly lost people do. It's a good lost, though.

Writing isn't bad, although not great. I finally was able to sit down and patch together almost all of the writing I've done since NaNo--just dumped it into one huge pile--and found that I've produced about 127,000 words, or something like that. When you factor in the writing I've done for the comic store, the stuff on this site when I was going strong and the reviews and co-reviews I've started doing with Hibbs, you have something comfortably in the 200,000 word range. The reviews have been well-received, too, which is gratifying. In all the cases of someone making a name through their reviews, very few of those cases have been the reviewer, but I got embarrassingly close recently.

Not everything's all roses. I'm stressing about Burning Man, mainly because my car is in the shop (I just pray that it will finally be fixed, and not struggling with all its intermittent problems for a change). My money situation is garbage and Tim is getting ready to move away. I'm out of shape (I've got a little resolution to eat right and get back in shape when I get back from Black Rock City). And I need a vacation something horrible. It's hilarious and awful that I'm sitting here at the computer because I didn't get up from the one at work pretty much for eight hours straight. It seems finally, just a few months shy of 36, I'm developing what a writing teacher used to call "ass power." I'm really tired. I should be in bed. If I was smart, I should be in bed with Edi, but I'm not. So it's up to say good night to the roomates and then off to bed. So much to do--I should have spent the evening making a to-do list. I should have made you laugh. I should have scooped my hands into the pool, as the waves laughed hoarsely down the beach, and risked being suck by something poisonous and beautiful. I can't tell you when I'll be back because I don't know for sure. But I will say this: keep it secret.

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