I can't help breaking radio silence for this one.

last night, zombies attacked my country home. I fled their incursion into my living room and kitchen through the windows by heading up a long, winding staircase and onto a large veranda. I escaped by leaping onto the canvas top of a passing jeep just in time to catch a dinner date with a friend of mine. in the dream, my friend was my older brother and our parents were Don and Joyce Wrigley from The Adventures of Pete & Pete.

After the appetizer, Dad decided he'd have a crack at fixing the large radio antenna in our back yard. During the repairs, the antenna was struck by a bolt of bad CGI lightning, sucking him headfirst and screaming into the aerial while I documented the scene by taking digital photos with a BBQ lighter.

It became clear to me (somehow) that wherever Dad had gone, he had been tangled in the swimming pool's vacuum hose, and the hose was slowly disappearing through a gap in our backyard fence. I dove into the pool and swam the length to the end, where I could grab the hose. Drawing myself up and onto the opposite side, I briefly stopped and thought, "Why is it always so difficult to move through the water in our dreams?"

I must have tied the hose to something to secure it, because I was called back to finish dinner. The waiter asked if I would be wanting to order from the menu, and I explained to him that no, I would be fine with my fish filet and bloody mary, and that I wouldn't be able to stay long anyway, because I had to save my father.


It seems that a lifetime of Nickelodeon and science fiction has left me deranged.

Shameless Plug Ahead

not too long ago I discovered that blogging my day to day life was becoming more of an annoyance than a leisure activity. I felt constantly obligated to update, spurred on by how many comments each entry was receiving, and the feeling of obligation was making me lazy. additionally, the posts themselves didn't feel useful in any way. so I abandoned my livejournal, and effectively stopped posting here altogether, and started up a slightly more specialized blogspot account.

the first one failed, but I think it was mostly because I made the scope of it too narrow and got bored. I've loosened it up a bit. I'm more excited about this one.

for those who have an interest, come visit: http://theexplodedview.blogspot.com/

experiment failed. new experiment pending.


also:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJ55Ir2jCxk

honk if you love television and film writers.

"How's your hair?"
"It's super cute, dude. It's kinda short and stacked in the back."
"You know what else is short and stacked in the back? Your mom."

sometimes these are like thoughtful little gifts that I'm sure I don't deserve.


yes.

I am expected to begin my quarter-life crisis this November. instead, I am having a 6-year-old's renaissance. on days when LA isn't choked with clots of brown cloud cover, I think about bending at the knee and launching myself into the upper atmosphere. the space through which I imagine my own movement expands in all directions; ricochets off the ozone like radio waves; touches down again and spreads slowly and inexorably around to the nighttime places of the earth. I have a recurring mental image of herds of buffalo and of fields of barley and hills and unbroken horizon lines, and know that I can go wherever I like and stay as long as I need and move on again. I feel unlimited potential rushing in torrents underground, carving out its massive subterranean arteries. I dreamed that the aurora borealis appeared over Los Angeles and that a shift in gravity caused the brownstone apartments along the street to break up, hunks of brick and mortar settling into planetary orbits around dumbstruck nuclear families. I drove to the beach and took digital photos of an ethereal fog settling over the water, winding in curlicues around the roots of mangrove trees. partygoers along the shore tapped a keg that exploded like a water plug and knocked me backwards into the pretzel tent. ...I'm not sure about that last part.

I want to be, in no particular order:
- a commercial airline pilot
- a published writer
- a professional photographer
- a travel journalist
- a cartographer
- the owner of a curio shop, book store, or international food mart on the beach, specializing in only exactly what people are looking for. the shop is small, but everyone leaves happy.
- a teacher of British literature, theater, and local history at the FSU study center in London.
- the proprietor of an American biergarten, comparable to the Englischer Garten in Munich.
- a pirate.

I am ready to be those things. the first movement of Mendelssohn's "Italian" Symphony No.4 in A takes an optimistic view of my life. it tells me that these and all other things are possible.

I entrust to this long dead musician the fullness of my ambition.

ohhhh, I knew this was coming.

"you are a paying member of this site!" you will say.

"you support the public, worldwide nudity of strangers!" you will say.

"everybody on this site is someone's daughter or sister! someone's mother! someday a grandmother!" you will say.

and that is all true. but my little sister has asked me what I would think if she were a suicidegirl, and I do not know how to answer her.

how hilarious that I chose today to wear my SG shirt. VERY hilarious. yes.

I meant to do this several days ago, but as it happens, it means more today, anyhow.

I was well and truly faced by this mantis. she didn't give a SHIT.

and nor do I. nyah.

thought: if I had a lady, would a peanut butter sandwich and a fat tire fly for dinner on a wednesday night?

reply: if I had a good lady, it would have been peanut butter and fat tire for two.

because that is how we would roll.


just got finished watching Blood Diamond. banging out a review and preparing my CV and a bio to send to Meaningful Media tomorrow morning. my new verizon phone should be delivered to my office tomorrow afternoon, freeing me at last from the malignant tumor that cingular has had me using for the last two years. I've got an exciting new fiction project that I am going completely stupid over. and to top the sundae, my weekend is fast approaching, during which I will christen my new Venice Beach saturday bike ride/photo expedition tradition and kick it fancy-style at an after-party on friday with my friend's fiance, who just won an emmy for animated character design in the cartoon he's been working on.

I live in Hollywood.

here's a snap of the mantis that lives in our courtyard:



and here is the same mantis, thoroughly disgusted with my persistent interest in her elongated prothorax and chitinous, scythe-like forelegs, giving me the booger-eye and pissing off around the corner:

upstairs, away from the smell of overcooked turkey sausage and beer breath, I somehow managed to walk face-first into Neal's patio screen, knocking it completely off its track and onto the balcony, where I stepped down hard onto the shredded aluminum and turned my big toe into a California Roll.



from now on, I stock my first aid kits with gauze and gaffer's tape. everything else just takes up space.

I'm filled with sweet, creamy indifference lately, blog-wise. like a listless eclair. today sees a half-hearted update in the form of a conversation with my little sister, who recently got the word "cunt" tattooed on the inside of her lower lip

Missy: EARTHQUAKE!!!
me: OMG
I thought it was just the downstairs neighbors slam dancing
and then suddenly there was nausea.
Missy: holy crap
me: I've never been seasick in my own apartment before
and then the dishes were rattling and there was a low groaning sound
Missy: did you stand in the doorway
me: I didn't have time
by the time I'd worked out that it was an earthquake, it was over
a quickie
20 seconds max
4.5, a few miles away
Missy: that gives me tingly feelings
me: I want my next to be outside so that it feels more like the earth is moving, and not just my apartment building
because I've been in buildings that shook and swayed before
but my interest has always been that the whole damn earth moves
I want to be out on the street to really feel that
Missy: ....I NEVER WANT TO EXPERIENCE THAT WHAT ARE YOU CRAZY HOLY HELL
me: plus, if the earth's crust splits and LAVA COMES OUT, I want to have room to run like a cheetah on fire
Missy: or just a stephen on fire
me: no, no, a cheetah.
I will be on all fours
FLYING LIKE THE WIND
with spots
Missy: and a tail
me: jesus queue-jumping christ
and then I had to go to bed!
I seriously considered sleeping with my clothes and shoes on
with my camera and a flashlight, just in case
Missy: Well i'm just glad it wasn't anything too big, and am glad that you and your apartment are safe
me: me too, kid
ME TOO
think about it, though
that's the continents moving around in their sleep
it's really awesome
it's something so much bigger than anything we've built
massive rocks, held together by inertia and gravity, bumping into each other
it's BADASS
hurricanes, too, and tidal waves
Missy: basically any major natural disaster
me: basically anything
the SUN
JESUS THE SUN IS BIG
btw, if you haven't seen it already, go see Sunshine
Missy: ill look into it
I GOT A KITTEN OMGZZZZZZ
me: yeah, I saw
Missy: mommy told you right
me: yeah, she did
Missy: shes so cuddly
me: where'd she come from?
Missy: Found her wandering the streets when visiting a friend
me: didn't you JUST GET A KITTEN, like 5 minutes ago?
wasn't she called chloe, or something?
Missy: ZOOEY! and don't you dare pretend you don't love her, you do!
me: I do
what's the new kid's name?
Missy: Casey
me: not bad
guy or gal?
Missy: girly
me: she coming with you to school?
Missy: can't. i'm in the dorms
and I feel a little awful
me: well, mom'll like it as an excuse to get you home to visit as often as possible.
as if free laundry service wasn't enough


the last part I included because kittens are restorative tonics for the soul.



and the suggestion that she go to see Sunshine goes for any of you, as well. it's an extraordinary movie.

it's no small wonder that religious right extremists call us out for being inhuman - atheists, gays, people who've had abortions or children out of wedlock - when you see the things we're saying about the death of a fellow human being.

seriously, kids, I didn't like him, either. I'm sure the planet didn't need a person like Jerry Falwell handing out intolerance and hate like church leaflets, but EVERYONE has SOMEONE who'd rather they be alive than dead. a little human compassion wouldn't go amiss if we ever wanted to take the moral high ground on anything ever again.