BACK...KINDA SORTA

I'm back. Well, not really. I am still dealing with a nasty case of the flu, but at least I am able to type a bit more than the past few days. But I am in bed on the trusty laptop, so I haven't made that much progress. So much going on. Where to begin?

Supposed to go out tonight and see a band. Do the whole mingle thing. There's a good business opportunity waiting for me at this place. It's a band I really want to see. But I could easily get some rest. Thanks flu!

We've had some strange shit going in with our neighbors up front. But they moved out today. Getting new neighbors is always a harrowing experience. Hope for the best, that's all I can do.

Reached the 1,000 hit mark today. Thanks people! Now can someone tell me how to get to 2,000 even quicker? Or better yet, how I can become the next Perez Hilton, minus all the gay jokes, bad hair, even worse clothing, fat ass and celeb gossip that absolutely no one but a guy who calls himself Perez Hilton would care about?

Seriously, people make cash money off these blog things. Could I be next?

I didn't go last night because I was tired, but the past two Friday evenings I have read some poetry at an undisclosed location in Long Beach. Testing the market, if you will. I've got enough poems to fill books, but no one has ever read or heard them. Well, a few people have heard them now. It's a daunting task getting in front of strangers are reading things I wrote, but I knew it had (and still has) to be done. Poetry readings are not for everyone and neither are my poems. But I'd say I'm 2-for-2. Whodathunk people would enjoy the bitterness that lives inside my head? I went for one reason -- feedback. Years in bands taught me that standing in front of an audience and doing whatever it is you do is the quickest way to refine your work. Bands can practice all they want -- and I can write as much as I want -- but you ain't shit until you do it with a crowd. It's interesting how performing new works breathes new life into things and can point out obvious flaws that can't be found otherwise. For example, I've got these poems written and I think they are good. Then I get up there and realize maybe the upcoming line sucks and I shouldn't read it because it suddenly becomes clear what works and what doesn't. So I'll be back, assuming I can ever get out of bed. I read three poems and leave them wanting more. So far it seems to be working out well for everyone involved.

Although they lost last night, the Lakers are kicking ass. When I'm sick, there is nothing better than a Lakers game on tv. I get in bed, turn on a soft overhead light, prop up my pillows and melt into the covers as my mind focuses on the screen. If the Lakers played every night, I'd never get anything done.

Two things I've realized about self-employment. Number 1: Taking a vacation not only means I'm not getting paid during the time I'm gone, it also means I won't be seeing any cash for a few weeks after because of the time it takes to recoup from a vacation. I was in Europe for two weeks, but the way the writing business works, I don't see checks until at least a week (usually up to three if I'm lucky) after publication. And what I write usually makes it in print 10 days after I wrote it. You do the math. I'm broke. Number 2: Being sick is like taking a shitty vacation. There's no income, no work, no nothing. I tried to piece some things together the past week, but I can't vouch for how interesting any of it is. A for effort? Maybe. But probably a C for an actual grade. If I'm going to have to be taken away from work, I'd prefer to do it in a foreign land, not my bedroom shivering from a fever although it's 80 degrees in February.

One thing I've learned about being sick: Number 1: Getting the flu is the best way to shed pounds. The first few days I ate nothing and, other than the fever, headache, sore throat and overall pain encompassing every inch of my body, it felt great. Then my body compensates and I eat like a fat ass for the next few days, not realizing I am overeating while not having the strength to exercise it off. So not only do I feel like shit, I feel like double shit because I haven't been to the gym in fucking forever.

I want to write more about relevant things and less about my petty shit, but that ain't gonna happen today. There's a whole world out there, but I guess I'm too much of an egomaniac to give a fuck about any of it. War? Elections? Gas prices? Who cares? I'm the star of this show, baby...