So I get these urges every now & then to cook something extravagant (i.e. time consuming & laborious). I start out all stoked about it (homemade stock! braised haunch of saber-toothed tiger!) & then feel overwhelmed about halfway through. I am made of culinary fail. Tonight we are having a salad. Just greens & grilled chicken & a homemade vinaigrette. There is a giant vat of slow-simmering Italian gravy on the stove & it's freaking me out right now. It smells good but I don't want to finish making it.
I am still in a holding pattern regarding the new batch of poems. Empty brain syndrome. This is accompanied by a bout of profound social awkwardness. When I speak, it comes out all backwards & strange. I am pretty sure I am inadvertently offending people. When I write stuff, it comes out all stormy & full of fucked-up-ness. I need a nice, productive-style creative occupation with practical results. I wish I knew how to knit or quilt or something like that.
There are two upcoming readings in November & I'm feeling nervous.
I could just sleep for days & days.
My dog needs a haircut.
Jellyfish are fascinating. So are spiders.
Samhain approaches. There might be ghosts in your cooking pots. Be aware of the unseen.
NEW The June Thirteen Myna Birds flock has arrived!
21 hours ago