There is no escaping the obsessive self

A few years back -- around this time of year -- I met with one of my close friends to discuss something that was bothering me. After an animated lengthy diatribe her response was: I wish I could find the off switch in your brain.

In the years that have followed I have often wished that she, or I (or somebody please!), had located that off switch.

I say this becasue I'm in desperate need of a break from being myself.

Last night, with my Borders 40% coupon in hand I went in search of DVDs. And yes I stood in front of the Criterion Collection for so long I was pretty sure that the announcement for security to zoom in on "Section 2" was about me. It's not that I'm vain but I must've looked a bit suspicious, kneeling and pondering for close to an hour. The thing is, I have a process that is probably best described as "finely ground." I mean that. And boy, you should be lucky if your process happens to be more coarsely ground.

The problem is I kept selecting Japanese movies made in the 1950s and 1960s and I envisioned myself watching another b/w Japanese film and I wanted to shoot myself. Not that there's anything wrong with b/w Japanese movies but why oh why can't I just go home and watch Step Brothers? (Where is that off switch?)

In a move that I considered (almost) paradigm shifting I purchased The Hunger, even though Catherine Denueve was a lame-ass and sued DeNueve magzine for using her name. (Did she even bother to look into their sales figures? It wasn't like they were going to the bank all that often on her name.) Anyway, we all know Susan Sarandon rocks and the line, "Mrs. Blaylock are you making a pass at me?" Which might be delivered telepathically -- is forever etched in my mind.

What sucks is I've tried all sorts of things over the years to try to break free of my patterns, once in while I'll shave my legs or fast or try to watch a romantic comedy. Nothing works. I always end up being me.

And to be perfectly honest, my next visit to Borders will be with a coupon and I will purchase those Japanese movies. And one chilly night, with the pellet stove warming me, I'll be as happy as a clam watching Women of the Night.

Nothing I'll attempt anytime soon.

Lynne Cox

her book is awesome

lyrics for the day

could you be dead?
you always were two steps ahead

from Everything But The Girl

I'm just back to New York City. It's the same grimy expensive place it was when I left a few weeks back. But I'm not the same grimy dude I was when I left.

C was cool enough to loan me the use of her house in rural Massachusetts where I holed up and spent my time working on a novel. Never before have I allowed myself to focus all my intention and most of my energy in the waking state, on writing. It'll be some time before I get any feedback on the manuscript and I hope folks don't think it's total crap. But wow, what a way to pass the time.

The photo (below) is me in my writing get-up. I bought new clothes to write in. I'm sporting a gray sweater, a gray shirt, and gray hair (!). Normally I don't wear sweaters and I don't have such long hair but as the outdoor temps were in the low 30s and 20s, to fight catching my death of cold I went for the sweater and hippie era hair.

Tomorrow I'm going to do two things one cannot do in rural Massachusetts: ride the subway and buy a falafel sandwich near Ground Zero. Fucking cannot wait!

my life as a writer (sort of)