making friends

I’m supposed to be writing something that’s due very soon, which means all I want to do is write the blog entry that’s been sitting in my head for a week. I’ll get this out, and then I can go over to Word and finish the outline for the new novel. I procrastinate work with other work. It’s not healthy, I’m sure, but it’s what I do. Continue reading

Changing of the Guard

About a year ago, if you’d asked me if I’m a guarded person, I’d have told you absolutely not. I write books and scripts that usually come out of some story from my life. I write quite publicly about my life online, for Pete’s sake. Clearly I don’t have a problem talking about myself. But I don’t write about everything here, and in the last month I learned quite a bit about my guard. Mostly I learned what happens when it goes down, even just a little bit. Continue reading

It’s Not A Phobia If It’s Rational

I don’t like dolls. I’m not going to freak out around your Barbie, but if you’ve got one of those old-timey, eyes shut when you lower it, hair like Firestarter dolls, then I’m not going to stay in the same room with it. It’s that simple. My semi-pediophobia comes from a very real place, and once you know about it, you can’t deny the fact that I have every reason in the world to be terrified of dolls. Continue reading

High Class Problems

It’s late, but I’ve got The Insomnia, so here I am, writing another entry. Will the wine work, or will the writing work? One of these things should get me sleepy. I’ve got work in the morning.

Um. So.

I ran into my friend Alex at the store last night. We went to college in Austin together, and he is now my neighbor, living just across the major street in our neighborhood. I think that’s the coolest thing. I get home late from work and run to the store, and who’s in line? Alex. It really made it feel like Eagle Rock is becoming an actual neighborhood, and not this place far away off The 2, where nobody ventures out unless they want to visit me or get some of the best Mexican food in Los Angeles. Continue reading

Crazy From the Heat

I somehow got away with spending my entire yesterday in a bikini.

I somehow got away with spending my entire past week like I was still in high school.

Monday night I went to spend time with my oldest friend. I saw clips from the movie he wrote and directed. It’s the biggest thing he’s ever done, and it’s good to see him so proud of something.

We looked at his baby pictures, watching him get older and older, going through sad phases, grumpy phases, one unfortunate tryst with a mullet.

I turned the page and smiled.

That’s the boy,” I said.

“Yeah, look how young I am.”

“I can’t believe we have known each other that long.”

“Look how good I look in this picture.”

“I know. That’s why I was a moron for you.” Continue reading

closure.

I had only driven through Palm Springs once, since I left it twenty years ago, and that was when I was moving to Los Angeles, the Meat of Cheese sitting by my side. I remember feeling nervous as I drove through it, and I called home to tell Dad I was driving though the place that changed my family for good. Continue reading