Friday, 10 July 2009 (undrum to muted da)
I got a decent job lead today, and followed up on it. I should hear back early week. It'll happen or it won't, and it's fine either way.
Marta's in New York, but she texts me a lot and we chat during those rare times that we're both online. Though it makes her feel not so far away, my heart's growing fonder all the same.
Heading now to Pete and Sarah's place to watch a Blu-Ray rip of 2010: The Year We Make Contact, because watching decades-old sci-fi movies with married couples is what young (is thirty-six still young?) hipsters like me do on Friday nights.
Thursday, 9 July 2009 (voltaic crusher)
Parking Fail: I just got my first ticket in years. Nobody's fault but my own.
On the other hand, another publisher just responded positively to my submission, saying they'll circulate it amongst the editorial staff and get back to me. So, that's two publishers who are currently considering my book, and two to whom I've submitted but haven't heard back from yet. I have no complaints.
Ramah tightened the squid this evening. I haven't seen her since shortly after I lost my job, so we had a lot to catch up on. It's been a busy few months, what with cleaning the apartment and finishing and )working on) selling the book and meeting and falling in love with Marta and starting the Victory Garden and whatnot.
Wednesday, 8 July 2009 (we were born the mutants again with leafling)
I just took Marta to the airport. She's gone for two weeks. Phooey.
So, I may not have done everything quite right, and I think I killed the cucumber starter plant that I got from Sloat Garden Center this morning, but by god, everything is in new soil now. The loose ocas are planted in a pot, and the kale plus the aforementioned cucumber and a tomato starter are in the Victory Garden proper. Something tells me there's going to be a lot of trial and error, but that's all right. And I'm still not sure what to do with the bag of chickenshit, especially since it seems to be mostly hay. I don't know much about these things. The local girl was supposed to help, but it hasn't happened yet. So, I do the best I can on my own.
Tuesday, 7 July 2009 (she's a rejector)
Rhiannon reblondified my roots this morning, and the squid gets tightened on Thursday evening. Meanwhile, my return trip to the Pharmacy was successful, and rather quick as these things goonly two hours. An ex-junkie with that telltale 45rpm-at-33 methadone slur in their voice asked me if my hair is naturally orange and purple. Sure.
sometime after midnight
Why Didn't Babel Dark marry Molly?
Monday, 6 July 2009 (labyrinthian pomp)
Marta and I knocked around Berkeley for a couple hours on Sunday afternoon, had an early dinner at Smart Alec's, then headed to Pegasus Books for the Femmethology reading. As we waited for the light at Shattuck and Bancroft to change, we made out, as is our wont when we have a minute or two to spare. Some guys in car turning the corner yelled out: lesbos! Then: lesbians! By this point I could tell that they'd completed the turn, but must have slowed down so they could toss out their final zinger: lesbian whores! Best queer-bash ever.
The reading itself seemed to go well, even though due to a number of scheduling conflicts there wound up being only three readers. We got a decent crowd, and heaven knows I've read to smaller audiences. One older lesbian in the audience seemed particularly taken with me. When I was done and sat back down (just to gather up my stuff, since Marta and I had to head back to San Francisco), she turned around and told me how much she liked what I read, how I'm so "beautiful and brave." Not words I would generally use to describe myself, but she seemed quite sincere, and who am I to disagree?
We got back into the City just in time for Bad Movie Nightthe reading had been scheduled for earlier in the evening for that reason, so I could make back to The Dark Roomand it was a good one. Marta sat with me up front, which I was sure would ever happen again after the birthday show. It was a rowdy night, with an energetic crowd (including quite a few newbies, who seemed to enjoy themselves) and a number of Erin's extended family around. The movie was Rocky IV, because I know how to pick 'em.
Marta and I returned to the Black Light District and had at each other (fucked, made love, had sex, all and none of those things), and when we were finally done a couple hours later, I just crashed out. Slept without my earplugs for the first time in over a year, possibly a year and a half. And I wasn't even on my preferred pillow. (I have two pillows on my bed, one of which I don't like sleeping on. It was an experiment I never quite completed.) In addition to being worn out, it was all about Marta cuddling me from behind, which is warm and comforting and makes me feel cared for. Little spoon!
I dropped her off this afternoon after we did some shopping, including picking up a couple bags of Kellogg's Amend soil stuff, and headed to the San Francisco General's Outpatient Pharmacy to pick up my hormone refill. The line was stretching out the door, and I lasted about ten minutes before deciding to return on Tuesday. Among other things, the soil stuff was already beginning to kinda smell, and I was parked in direct sunlight. Not so good.
Sunday, 5 July 2009 (faberge falls for shuggie)
No food pantry for me this morning, even though I'm not with Marta (and the local girl just texted to ask if I'd be there). Instead, I'm heading into The Mission to check out the Free Farm Stand. Free locally grown produce, and more importantly, seedlings and starter plants. Then I'm hooking up with Marta, and we're heading into Berkeley for the second Femmethology reading. Among other things.
Saturday, 4 July 2009 (bunny ain't no kind of rider)
A quiet Fourth of July, as quiet as possible in this neighborhood. I didn't leave the house at all until this evening, briefly venturing out to the beach to investigate the various homegrown fireworks displays. Saw a few illegal skyrockets, some of which I'm pretty sure didn't work the way they were supposed to, falling back to the ground like flares rather than exploding. But that's the fun of it, I suppose. I considered walking to The Riptide to check out their festivitiesironically enough, I met one of the owners the other night at Shotwell's, because all roads lead to The Missionbut found I just didn't care enough. Plus it would have possibly involved spending money, and I don't like going to bars by myself. Except for Divas, I suppose, where I wound up two Fourths ago because Vash didn't want me with her. But that would have involved driving out there, plus the whole money thing, and it felt like way too much trouble.
I was mildly productive this afternoon, at least. I worked on a couple more book proposals (the same book, different publishers), both of which I'll be emailing this next week. Even I know better than to send them off on a Saturday and a national holiday.
Friday, 3 July 2009 (a sentence of sorts in kongsvinger)
Went to lunch this afternoon with Horehound, then picked up Vegetable Gardening for Dummies from the library. It'll probably go over my head. Hopefully the offer from the local girl to help me get started still stands, because I'm close, but still feel like I need guidance.
Thursday, 2 July 2009 (gronlandic edit)
Marta and I are going to Bolinas today to visit c0g and m0. We'd just now got out of bed, which I'd intended to happen at eight. We were awake by eight, but, well, the nighttime has its charms and all that. With any luck, we'll actually be on the road before noon.
sometime after midnight
The Bolinas excursion finally happened, and was a lot of fun. We rode bicycles, Marta happily met c0g's goats, and I fell off the vegan wagon for homemade goat-milk ice cream. Among other things.
c0g also gifted me with stuff to get my backyard Victory Garden started: several pots, a starter oca plant, and huge bag of chicken shit. Ah, the glamor of nature.
Wednesday, 1 July 2009 (heimdalsgate like a promethean curse)
Last night was Creating Queer Community, the mandatory meeting for people who want to apply for a grant to do a show in next year's National Queer Arts Festival. I find I'm a bit more ambivalent about it than I've been in the past. It doesn't help that the theme is "Making History," and they said they're more likely to give grants to shows which address that theme on some level. I don't see offhand how mine doesit's about stuff which happened to me personally a few years ago, and I'm not so egotistical as to believe I've made history on any levelbut I suppose that's what spin and marketing is all about. It helps that Joe from The Garage is on the board that makes these decisions, and he really wants me to be in it next year. In any event, this is all about promotion for the book, so it's worth a shot.
I sent a slightly revised version of the book proposal to a New York-based queer book publisher, one which was recommended by the editor on Monday in her very kind rejection email. Much to my surprise, especially since the website says responses usually take up to two months (and many don't respond at all) , the publisher replied within an hour. He thanked me, saying he'd "take a look and be back in touch ASAP." Wow. It's not a guarantee by any means, I accept that I have many more rejections in my future, but that's gotta be a good sign all the sameI can't believe he responds so quickly and positively to every proposal, not when there are surely dozens if not hundreds of queries flooding in every day. So, yeah. We'll see. And if he decides not to pursue it, that's okay. I'll just keep trying until it works.