The bright side of a Moon
Just a note for the mom dressed up like Cruella de Vil on the bus today: Did you notice that your baby stopped crying faster when you held him close and spoke softly to him, rather than previously when you were shaking him in frustration while trying to get his dalmatian suit on?
That’s good to know, isn’t it?
Don’t shake the baby. Please.
Two days until I begin my second attempt at writing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. My blogging here might go down, drastically. Or it might not. Last year I started a second blog to post excerpts from my work-in-progress. I may or may not do that this year, too.
Three days until my fourth blogiversary. Still not sure what I’ll do to celebrate it. I may simply mark it’s passage and move on. I may be too embroiled in NaNoWriMo to work up anything fun or cool. Just let it be known that I’m aware of the passage of time.
Fup, the store cat at Powell’s Technical Bookstore, has died (via the Merc Blogtown).
I have nothing, really, to say. She lived a long life for a cat – 19 years!
Dying is sad.
Goodbye, Fup.
I was up by 7 AM today. Yes, on a Sunday.
Did some calisthenics (push ups, stomach crunches, squats, back crunches), weighed in (down a pound), got a cinnamon roll and coffee from the coffee shop down the street, started my laundry, made the bed, cleaned the living room, printed out last year’s NaNoWriMo novel (in its uncompleted state – I’m going to read through it and take notes and get re-inspired to finish it (that’s the plan, anyway)), did the dishes, made sure I knew where my passport was, sorted out the old magazines and got my recycling ready, took out the trash, folded the laundry as it dried, kept the paper tray in the printer filled out, figured out my calories for the day (in advance! So much better that way), balanced my checkbook, installed iWork ’08 on my Mac mini, showered, flossed my teeth, chatted with Tracy, put on some nice slacks and my new black blazer, packed up my laptop, got on the bus, transfered to another bus, had lunch (which had been pre-planned) at Pizza Schmizza (Creole chicken pizza and a Caesar salad combo), wandered through the mall, dropped my ballot off at Pioneer Courthouse Square, walked to Backspace, ordered a coffee, told the woman working behind the counter how much I loved Radiohead (“In Rainbows” was playing as I walked in), sat down on the comfy couch, opened my laptop, chatted with Tracy again… and here I am.
More cool stuff from around the World of The Internet!
Suggestions? Put it aside for a few days, or longer, do other things, try not to think about it. Then sit down and read it (printouts are best I find, but that’s just me) as if you’ve never seen it before. Start at the beginning. Scribble on the manuscript as you go if you see anything you want to change. And often, when you get to the end you’ll be both enthusiastic about it and know what the next few words are.
And you do it all one word at a time.
When I open the box on my desk this morning, I see a child-like sense of wonder.
Thanks! It’s just what I needed!
OK, back to work. I’ll enjoy that present… later.
Y’know, when I’m not so freakin’ busy.
Just sitting here, trying to be the best Brian I can be, looking for opportunities to make something happen.
When I make my morning peanut butter and jelly toast, I always am careful to spread both the peanut butter and the jelly all the way to the edge of the bread slice. I want every surface of the toast to be covered in both peanut butter and jelly.
I lay the slices on my cutting board after toasting, side by side. Peanut butter goes on one slice (usually the left) and the jelly goes on the other. When both are spread evenly, I put them together.
Then I curse when I take a bite into the sandwich and pb&j spread drips out the far side onto my pant leg.
My first time almost going to a club was around 1985 or 1986, I think. I had tossed my bicycle in the back of my truck and rode out to Clackamas Town Center, where there was a bike trail that ran along I-205. I had just parked the truck when I saw a cute brunette girl in a red t-shirt walking towards me from the direction of the freeway off ramp. She asked me to help her; she was on her way to work and had a flat tire. Being the chivalrous type, of course I helped her! Unfortunately she had no tools to remove the spare tire from underneath her car, so I offered to give her a ride to work; she was already getting upset because she was late. She agreed.
When we got in my truck, I asked her where she was going and she told me that she worked at the Acropolis. “Do you know where that is?”
Duh. The Acropolis is one of the more famous Portland landmarks, a strip club with four stages, impeccable hiring practices, and the best steaks in town – the owner has a ranch and grows his own beef. I’d seen that blue-and-white striped building for as long as I had grown up in Milwaukie (a suburb of Portland).
I answered her in the affirmative, but when she’d asked if I’ve ever been in there, I had to say no. On the drive there, I asked her if she was a waitress, or… and let that question hang. She said she was a waitress.
I let her out in the parking lot, and she told me that if I came back the next night, she’d be able to pay me for my gas.
“No problem!” I said (stupidly), “consider it a favor!”
She went inside, and I drove off. I don’t remember her name. I wouldn’t actually go inside that building for another year or so. Details are fuzzy after all this time. Bear with me.
Now, two decades later, I live a half-mile from the Acropolis, and I’m known there by face, name and hat. And I’ve been to a lot, but not all, of the clubs in the Portland area. My current favorite club is Devil’s Point, but I still hang out at the Acrop just because I don’t have to drive home.
I’ve got a lot of strip club stories to tell… And I very much respect the entertainers and staff that make it all happen. If I won the lottery, I’d open a strip club of my own, and make it a progressive place to work…
But that’s a story for another time.
Almost forgot to mention that my Christmas trip to Cancún will be green.
I bought carbon offsets for the flight there and back from The Conservation Fund.