If we can send a

If we can send a thousand books to California’s libraries, be the initial spark of several relationships that have turned into marriages, and reunite me with a childhood friend, for Pete’s sake we should at least be able to help Sars find Don. Somebody, please!

Boom.

At the risk of sounding like I make up every crazy thing that happens around here, a car just crashed into the front of my neighbor’s house.

Everybody’s okay, the car’s pretty much totaled and the house suffered worse damage than one would think. I was just sitting here working when I saw a car roll right into the house. I guess they were turning around, using my neighbor’s driveway, when the brakes failed. Boom. The cats were so instantly alarmed that I thought somehow the car had crashed into our house even though I saw what had happened.

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No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn

It’s almost one in the morning. I’ve now given up on the theory that I could get a tiny bit of sleep. I’m on an airplane, you see, headed towards New York City. We took off close to an hour ago. We land in not too long — about four hours. Will I get a second’s rest before it’s eight in the morning on the East Coast? Probably not. You see, for some reason this red eye’s the worst damn red eye ever made.

I should say right here that I’m not good on a packed flight. I hate a crowded row. We’re all fighting for arm rests and seat space, our asses and elbows flirting with each other when all we want to do is seal ourselves up in individual bubbles. I’m a wiggler. I’ll just come right out and admit it. Sitting still like this makes my skin crawl. I get itchy and I’m always uncomfortable. I feel like I’m sliding off the seat. My neck hurts. I can’t get comfortable for more than fifteen minutes, which makes it even more difficult to fall asleep. But if the Radiohead is set at just the right volume and the guy next to me doesn’t mind that I’m fidgeting for a good thirty minutes before I settle down and the flight attendant doesn’t slam into my shoulder every fifteen minutes as she passes by, then sometimes… sometimes I can fall asleep. But not usually.

And boy am I not falling asleep tonight. It seems they’ve decided one in the morning is a good time to start a movie. They think that we want to watch Life, or Something Like It, starring Ed Burns and Angelina Jolie. I’m on a one-way flight to Hell, obviously.

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Classy.

Wednesday night I had planned on updating, but my Queer as Folk forum was attacked with a two-hour case of trolls which took a manibajillion years to clean out on a dial-up. By midnight, I was way too pissed off to update.

That was the night of Funky Chicken, a chicken I took out of the fridge to cook, and found that it had somehow completely rotted on the trip from Trader Joe’s to home. The entire house smelled of foul fowl. It was not a good night, on the whole.

Thursday I was rehearsing at night, writing during the day. I’m trying to finish this screenplay and I’m at the part in the writing process where I hate it so much that I now have to just force myself to finish it. I hate every line, every character and every scene. I wonder why I even bother. I can’t stand the thought of people reading it. By tomorrow, I plan to have the first draft done. Then by Monday, the revision. That’s the plan, anyway. I have to torture myself or it won’t be finished. Hey, hey, Friday night, how cool are you? By Monday I’ll be protective of the script, but right now — hatred.

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Man.

you’d think after four hours I’d have written more.

Last night was spent catching up with one of my oldest friends, sitting in a bar until they kicked us out, and then today I drove around town doing a combination of errands and lunch and showing him the places in Austin I’m going to miss the most.

After a nap, I thought I’d sit here, catch up on mail, read the new forum threads and then write my entry. Now it’s three hours later and I’m just sitting down to write the entry. That’s how busy the forum was yesterday and today. Y’all, Eric just got home. He had an entire REHEARSAL while I was sitting here catching up on one missed day.

I have learned my lesson.

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