The Demonweasel Speaks

So itís been a busy couple of days it seems, but really, theyíve been pretty damn relaxing.

Chapter Eight is finally dead. I stalked it through the jungle, wore it down, killed it and ate its heart and liver to make me stronger.

Thatís a gross way to say that I finally cracked it and can now move on. I kept myself up last night until it was done, and I think I only kept one little patch of dialogue from the first draft, added a new scene or two here and there, set the groundwork for better things coming up, and am generally happy with how its turning out. Iím going to be sending it out to some folks to take a look at, so if youíre interested drop me a line.

I know, itís a first, me being happy about things turning out, but its true. Over the past week or so I think Iíve learned a lot about taking things easy, not looking at everything as life and death, yes or no and all that kind of dichotomous crap. I mean seriously, Iíve always been Dichotomous Hippopotamus and now it finally looks like Iím snapping out of it.

My god, a bright shining future. Is that possible?

Other good things: ìEx Machina,î a new series by one of my new favorite writers Brian K. Vaughn (ìY: The Last Man,î ìRunawaysî) came out a couple of weeks ago and I finally got around to picking it up. Damn good stuff. A regular joe finds a mysterious object at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge and it blows up in his face, giving him the ability to talk to and control machines. He decides to do the superhero thing for a while and then realizes that he can help people in another way: he reveals his identity, runs for and becomes mayor of New York. Politics and superheroes donít usually go well together (except for ìWatchmenî and ìRising Starsî), but in a world where this guy (the series is so good I forget the main characters nameÖthatís a sign of good, right?) is the only super-powered being around and has a hand in trying to stop 9/11 and there are all sorts of backroom dealings going on it makes for a real fine story.

On ìSix Feet Underî Nate is totally beginning to piss me off with his self-indulgent whining and ìmy grief and issues are a thousand times worse than everyone elseísî bullshit. And RicoÖmy god Rico, just stop now, please, for the love of God. Heís going to need construction equipment to dig himself in any deeper with his wife. Itís also nice seeing people like Ruth and Brenda regretting their *insane* spur of the moment life-altering decisions. Maybe Iím jaded, but Jesus deciding ìOh hey, Iíve been dating this person for a couple of months, letís have a babyî is just fucking idiocy.

ìEntourageî the new comedy show following SFU is pretty good as well. Four old high school friends are living in LA. One of them is an up and coming movie star, and the rest are shamelessly riding his coat tails (one a blatant suck up, one a struggling no-talent actor and one thatís the responsible one who ends up being the de facto decision maker for everyone). Lots of weird A to C list celebrity cameos (like Jessica Alba and David Faustino in the same episodeÖhow weird is that?) and it has Jeremy Piven, who plays the starís backstabbing/ingratiating agent. For some reason Iíve always liked Piven, I think ever since seeing him in ìOne Crazy Summerî (one of those cute 80s underdog triumphs over all movies, by the same guy who did ìBetter Off Deadî). ìIs she high, Ty?î ìHigh, Ted.î

So thatís that. I actually have a busy social calendar today. Who knew?

What you get when you genetically engineer corn too much, I remainÖ

A good day, so I think I’m gonna do a “What I Did Today” post.

My sleep’s been wonky lately, so I crashed out early adn was able to spring up and out when Melissia dropped Allie off at 8. Watched Sportscenter and when Allie’s sitter picked her up I played some football and then took a crack at the 8th Chapter of the book. The lovely and talented Diane took a crack at the first seven chapters and gave me some good feedback, so I reread what I had, made some minor changes and then spent a couple of hours cracking away and the pile of horseshit that is Chapter 8. Thankfully, it stinks less now. I’m not quite done with it, but I’m going to hack away at it some more tonight. I’m hoping that once I get past this the editing will go smoother now.

As always, those who are interested are welcome to take a gander. Jon and Chris I haven’t forgotten about you guys, and I dash something off to you tonight as well.

Then I had lunch and spent about two hours in the gym and then back home for more football (and a *hell* of a comeback victory) and now, well, now.

A good day. Productive without feeling rushed. All good things.

Things are beginning to feel like they are normal, which is kind of odd. Nice odd, but still, odd. But I’m happy, that’s the important thing. I’m growing as a person and getting to know new people and generally being okay with things, and it turns out that’s a good thing.

Who knew?

Turns out, I knew, and I remain…

So Iím real broken up about the Lakers off-season meltdown. Honest. I feel *terrible.* Kobe is such a little dick cheese, but yíknow, heís going to have a great time in prison. Seriously, heís going to do the easiest time known to man. I mean, whoís gonna mess with him? No one. To make it fair they need to send him to a prison in some third world country where theyíve never heard of basketball and donít care for celebrity. When it comes to playing, I have doubts as to if he can actually carry the team on his own (and I realize the irony of that, but thatís the Lakers way, team = one or two people doing well and everyone else being subservient to them. Did the Finals teach them nothing?). Either way, itís going to be nice to see him fall.

I do, however, hate the fact that Kenyon Martin has left the Nets. That sucks. We areÖnot going to do well. Make next season Iíll begin my relationship with the Knicks. Maybe. Weíll see. Iím getting psyched for football, and have even dusted off Madden í04 and managed to win myself a Super Bowl. Of course, I kind of fucked myself in the off-season, so weíll see if I make a repeat or not.

Iím adjusting to my new schedule and role at Dark Star. Itís fun, not a lot of stress, and enough work that youíre always looking towards tomorrow to finish what youíre trying to do. Thatís good, but it can be kind of frustrating constantly fighting entropy. Not to mention the fact that Iím wicked poor until I get paid. I actually applied for a credit card earlier in the week (tiny one, $500 limit) so weíll see what happens.

Iím trying to fit a new schedule for writing and exercising with my work schedule, so weíll see how that works. I had a good boxing workout on Monday which was good an invigorating, and Tuesday I pushed myself really hard on the weights, seeing as how it had been a couple of weeks since I had been in there. Needless to say, it doesnít help that the gym is hot as a bastard. Thankfully, the past few days weíve been past the face-melting heatwave.

Writing is going well, although I realize that I havenít done any the past few days. I like where ìLooking Backwardsî is going, and may post more of it soon. Iím always hesitant about putting up a work in progress, but then again, itís nice getting feedback from people (thank you Katie and Bobby). Iím like a psychic vampire in that respect. I always assume that once I get published and I know that what I write will be able to be out there for folks the words will flow like water, and Iíll be able to be one of those guys that puts out a book a year with three or four comic projects on the side.

I like to dream big.

I may also put up some stuff that Iím not terribly embarrassed about also. I feel like Iím saying ìIím a writerÖbut you can look at anything Iíve done.î Thatís lame. Chris poked at me for not letting him read more of the book, and I need to get back to that. Need, desperately, to get back to that. I should be able to do that and work on ìLooking Backwardsî at the same time. I should.

Shoulda, woulda, I remainÖ

So weíre in the horrid, sweaty, arm-pit like belly of summer here in Ohio. Itís like while I was away someone dialed up the humidity to a constant 90%.

Hey, what happens when itís 100% humidity? Are we all swimming? Do we become Atlantis?

Itís weird being at Dark Star two days in a row. I worked my first ìnew dayî on Saturday, and then my regular time on Sunday. All day Saturday it felt like Sunday because I worked about the same amount of time with the same people, and I had to keep reminding myself that I was going to have to get up and do it all again the next day. Even weirder, when I got in on Sunday, I realized that I had done most of the straightening and the like that I usually spend a shit-load of time doing (as I feel like Iím the only person that does it) on Saturday, and I had to dig a little deeper to be the peppy, go-getting self-starter that I am.

God, what a nerd.

I should be illegal for me to be single. I think itís a crime against humanity, not just because Iím not getting laid (Iím used to that) but it makes me act like a total fucking idiot. I donít know what Iím doing. I donít know how to act like a regular functioning human. Most of the time I think Iím doing okay, that I donít need to be paired up, I can just be myself (or failing that, continue on the Journey to the Centre of Myself).

Other times? Wow. Assclown.

Friday I was running around town doing errands, and as I was crossing the street I noticed a very attractive woman sitting on the bench near where I was heading (a ìfly honey?î Perhaps). So Iím walking, checking her out, thinking thoughts, and then *wham* Iím almost clothes-lined by Christmas lights hanging from a tree. And we wonder why Iím singleÖîHey, how you doiÖ*ack* *choke* being strangledÖby holiday cheerÖ*gag*î

I just hate putting myself out there and hearing the wet, smacking belly flop of my social failures. See, I donít know how to do this. I spent my formative years bouncing from serious relationship to serious relationship. After eight years or so of that, I find I missed out on some of that baseline experience everyone else just seems to have already. Thatís stupid because I know itís not true, and I donít even want to be the person for whom that would be true, like some sort of slackjawed, fratboy grinning idiot who can schmooze and get the digits.

But today, it bugs me.

I did more work on ìLooking Backwardsî last night. Iím thinking I may have a perfect balance of knowing what itís about, what I want to say with it, where Iím going with it and not knowing exactly how Iím going to get there. I got to a point last night where I realized I couldnít do what I had originally thought I was going to do next because it would just be wrong, it just wouldnít make any sense. So I had to change it. I know it doesnít sound like a big deal, but it was very liberating. Sometimes Iím too much of a planner. Iím still going to write it in 22-page chapters, but Iím thinking it may be better served as a big OGN (original graphic novel), 110-144 pages worth. Weíll see. I read ìThe Tombî today at lunch, a 144-page digest sized (a bit taller and wider than mass-market paperbound book) OGN, and it was interesting. I liked getting a good, one-sitting dense read. I think serialization can only work in certain cases. Warren Ellis has been talking about this a lot on his email list lately, so maybe thatís why this is running around in my brain.

ìSix Feet Underî was wicked good tonight. I love David and Keith. What a great relationship they have now. Maybe thatís why I feel all angsty, all broken up inside. Like Nate, so messed up he canít even realize how messed up he is. Things could be worse, I could be like Rico, because god knows Iíve been in that kind of spot before, and it never ends well. Claire drives me crazy, but sheís still amazingly attractive to me. I could love a Brenda, but I think there might be way too much baggage there (but hot sex? Most definitely). Things could be worse, I could be like Arthur, and hey, god willing, I wonít end up with more skeletons than George.

I have to get out more. I have to rent some real, non-TV friends.

No life, no life, no life, I remainÖ

My 7-year old daughterís favorite song being ìYeahî by Usher is cute. Hearing her sing the line ìWe want a lady in the street but a freak in the bedî makes it less so.

Iím so suing Usher for corrupting my little girl. The sad thing is, there are people out there who might consider such a thing.

Example: SportsCenter was running a 4-part report on sports video games, and the last one was about ìAre Sports Games Too Violent for Kids?î *sigh* So they show this kid, who I think was 7, but maybe he was 11, and one of his favorite games is Major League Baseball Slugfest. Itís a baseball game that, in addition to playing the game, while running the bases you can start swinging at the other players, kicking them, kneeing them, making them drop the ball, and have it turn into a great big brawl. For the piece, they sit this kids Mom down with him, as she has never seen him play the game before. And, sheís shocked! Horribly shocked! Why, thereís hitting in this game. ìItís like a real slugfest!î she says in indignation. No shit, really? A game called MLB Slugfest is actually a fucking *slugfest!* What would you have done if your kid had wanted ìNFL Baby Eating Ass Raping Genocidal Challenge?î Say ìGee, it sounds like a harmless football game?î Not to mention the fact that the first time she watched her kid play this game was for a fucking TV show.

I fucking love when parents get indignant about things their kids do when they donít spend an ounce of time trying to actually find out what their kids like and do.

God, people are idiots.

So, to sum up: my daughter is adorable, and everyone else is a fucking idiot.

Iím off to watch Charlieís Angels 2.

Because my word is law, I remainÖ

Aaaaand weíre back.

A good vacation, thatís for sure. Not stressful or difficult, and long enough to make me very happy to be home. On me and Allieís flight from Detroit to Syracuse, I got seated in between Allie and a middle-aged soccer mom who introduced herself to me by saying ìDonít worry, I wonít draw blood, and any bruises will be easily covered up.î Turns out she was deathly afraid of flying, and had already taken a half a Xanax to prepare herself. Of course, takeoffs and landings were the worst, and during the takeoff (which was extra long as the plane felt the need to do a couple of laps around the airport first) she clutched my hand so tight I lost feeling, and then buried her head in my shoulder and right after we left the ground threw her other arm around me. It was more amusing as her three sons were sitting in the row behind us, and her husband across the row behind us. I couldnít tell if he was horribly embarrassed or pissed off that his wife was hanging all over a complete stranger. It was more amusing that Allie was just curled up in the seat next to us, sleeping away. Itís cool that sheís been on a plane enough that she is more than comfortable on them now.

When we landed we realized that her bag had gotten lost, so we had to hang around and do paperwork, and then wait up until 12:30 in the morning (am) for them to deliver the bag. During this delightful process (where I yelled and swore a lot, I think getting my quota for the week out of the way), I remembered that when Joschi, Tina and Jon were at my place that morning, I didnít turn off my coffee pot, so I called my maintenance guy to get him to turn it off. He gave me the bumís rush off the phone, which was odd, and then never called me back (after quick protest that he didnít need the number where I was, he had it in his phone). Of course, when I got home I realized that he never called me back because he never did it, and I had to scour grime out of my pot when I got home.

I got a lot of reading done (ìPattern Recognitionî by William Gibson, ìFlashfireî by Richard Stark, most of ìFirebreakî also by Richard Stark), and managed to hang out on the beach a while before it started raining the past couple of days. I spent my actual 4th, though, I was sick to my stomach as I drank insane amounts of liquor the night before, getting in my Dadís Aquavite (or however the hell you spell it, itís Norwegian or whatever). About three or four shots of that, beers, and then shots of VodkaÖsweet jesus I was praying for death. I think I vomited off and on for about 12 hours, drunkenly recounting lost love and horrors to my friend Chris and my brother in law.

Good times, good times.

So tomorrow begins my new odyssey of employment. Apparently, there is already drama. Dra-ma! */high queenie voice* But, thankfully, it doesnít have anything to do with me. At least, not that I know of. What I do know is that I have to stop myself from going to campus to check in on the store *because I donít work there anymore!* Itís why my keychain is lighter, which my friend Eric says is a good metaphor for my life right now. Which is damn right.

The first episode of ìThe Prisonerî is on BBC America. Tyhey are apparently rerunning them all on Fridays at 10 (and every couple of hours through the wee early AM, too, for the left-coast people). So Iím out.

No longer a prisoner, I remainÖ

So Spider-Man 2, in the words of Carl from Aqua Teens: “Awesome. Frickin’ awesome!”

Seriously, lets say this Twinkie represents the normal amount of awesomeness you would find in a movie. With Spider-Man 2, however, you get a Twinkie 35 feet long weighing approximately 600 lbs. That’s a big Twinkie. FILLED WITH AWESOME!

Really, it’s an amazing movie. Best sequel ever? Yes, I’d say so. Best super-hero movie ever? It’s possible. I’ll have to meditate on it, but if not it’s a strong, strong second. I talked to my friend Chris briefly about it last night and he called the first half overly sentimental, and I can kind of see that, but I don’t know about “overly.” He and I will have to discuss this over vacation the way we do about these things: drunk and yelling. But with brotherly love, I’m sure. I’m not going to say much else aside from go see it (*frickin’ awesome!*)and go to the bathroom before hand (it’s 2hrs, 7mins, you get your money’s worth). You get what is, and I’ll go on record on this, the best super-hero fight caught on film (The Matrix movies have super-hero style fights, but I’m talking guys with powers in spandex fighting. Previous best fight: Superman vs. General Zod and his posse in Superman II) and a real, heart-warming story that is really sweet and inspirational. And holy shit am I ready for #3 now. The story will most definitely continue.

Melissia (my ex) and I took Allie to go see it, and Allie was a perfect little angel. She spent a lot of time lying down with her head on Melissia’s lap or sitting on her. There were some tense moments in the movie, and afterward she said that it was “a little scary,” but she still left the theater shooting her spider-webs and this morning she was playing with an imaginary Dr. Octopus (“Sit Dr. Octopus! Good Dr. Octopus!”).

Yesterday was also my last official Antioch day. Jen threw me a little party and it was really sweet and humbling to see people come just to say good-bye to me. Afterward I cleaned all my toys and posters off of my desk and walls and turned in my keys and it felt so…empty. Despite all the insanity, all the inane bureaucracy, the asshole students and classist, snobbish faculty, I’m going to miss it, because those things I hated about it aren’t everything. There was a lot of good, and I know that it outweighed the bad. It’s nice to go, to have a change in my life that comes from a decision I’m making (not like when I started working at Dark Star 2 years ago, showing up on their doorstep going “I’m completely broke and have no hot water in my house. Can I have a job?”). I’ll be making more money and I’ll have better opportunities and more time off. What’s not to like? But, of course, I’m still nervous and that’s not going to change until probably a year from now, but that’s just the way I work.

Now, I have to get ready for my Antioch friends (guys I haven’t seen in almost 4 or 5 years)popping in and spending the night before Allie and I rush off to visit my folks until the 8th. So it’s busy busy busy. I doubt I’ll update until I get back, so everyone have a happy holiday and try to grab some time to relax.

Looking for the hero within, I remain…