Today is a much better day, finally.
I’m not sure what was going on with me since Friday, but it has officially cleared. And I feel like I’m back to being myself. I’m wondering if it was connected to the full moon, or if I was just nuts, with or without the moon. But anyway. It has passed.
My only trial now is that I am trying to stop using the Flonase. Every few months, I take a break from it because it is a steroid. However, it is the ONLY thing out there that really takes care of my allergies. So now I’m going through that thing where I can’t fucking breathe….
And I am doing laundry right now, even as I type! And sadly, the summer PJs are hanging to dry now and will be put away until late Spring.
Amazing how sad it makes me. When I was younger, I never gave a fuck about any of this kind of stuff, because I was always in such a hurry for life to happen, you know? I didn’t give a fuck what PJs I wore to bed — usually, back then, I only wore my delightfully pretty birthday suit to bed! I rarely do that anymore. Because, I’m, like
60, I mean 12. I mean SIXTY! Yes.
Here’s something funny. Yesterday, when I had that (amazing!!) phone chat with the CEO of the new publishing company I just signed with — I think she’s maybe in her late 30s, perhaps 40 at the most? Anyway, she said several times that she couldn’t believe I was 60, because of my voice. (I sound like I’m about 21. Honestly. Or maybe 12…)
I don’t know what it is. My voice never matured. My personality certainly never matured. I know I don’t look 60, but I look, maybe 49 and a 1/2. I don’t really know. But what I do know is that now, alone in bed at night in the dark, more often than not, I’m streaming those reruns of The Monkees from my wee bonny girlhood. (And I’m laughing — a lot.) And more often than not, when that’s over, I’m in the throes of some wonder-filled masturbatory frenzy. Then I start chattering with my many cats, who I call “Silly Billies” because they like to chase each other around my dark bedroom the very moment I start to fall asleep.
And then I realize, you know — my God. I’m 60 years old. For Christ’s sake, I am really never going to grow up. Like, ever.
Normally, I don’t really notice “myself”, because I’m just me all the time. But once I turned 60, back in July, I have started to sort of notice how weird I am. I really did used to think that I would get married again one day, and all that stuff, and have some sort of conventional life. But I can’t even imagine anyone putting up with me at this point. It was hard enough for others to tolerate me back when I behaved just like the age I was.
I know! I would be a great match for, like, a really horny 12-year-old boy. But Ohio has these weird pedophile laws now…
Well, judging from some of the comments I’ve been seeing in the WordPress feed, a whole lot of bloggers were not happy with that sweeping change they made over to the new block editor. So I was not the only one freaking out Friday morning over the “loss” of my blog. I feel a little better knowing that. (I’m also really relieved that I found the tiny little button that leads you to the classic editor. Thank god. But for some reason, they sure don’t want you to find it.) (I thought it was called “Word” Press because it was supposed to be like using “Word,” and not like trying to blog from some weird template from outer space…)
Anyway, for now, it’s over and done. And today is also the day that I am allowed to start building the new site for Marilyn’s Room Books. But I don’t know if I’ll do that today, because now I need to get this new erotic short story written, and do a final edit to the whole collection, and get that off to the publisher as soon as possible, since I already signed the contract for “Half-Moon Bride.”
So that is what my plate looks like today; I hope yours is just as happy.
This Friday, October 9th, is that live chat thing on Bad Seed TeeVee.
I believe that I have at long last figured out that intense Australian time zone difference.
I think it means that I will be tuning in at 6am, US East Coast time. Luckily, I am always awake at 6 am.
I’m not sure how you feel about it. But I guess it all depends on your time zone.
All righty. Well, the dryer is bleating at me to come attend to it now. So I will close this and get the day underway here.
Thanks for visiting, gang. I’m gonna leave you with what I think is my favorite piece from the Lawless soundtrack (mentioned in that announcement there above). I was once a truly fanatical devotee of Emmylou Harris’s. I had all her records, and I knew every word, every note, etc., etc. I just loved her. (I don’t not love her now, but all of Country music has just changed so radically since those days, and a huge chunk of what I used to love has split off into Americana. It’s hard to follow all of it now.)
Anyway, I leave you with “Fire in the Blood / Snake Song”, which was written by Nick Cave & Warren Ellis (yes! the very same Warren Ellis who launched an Instagram account a couple weeks ago and has posted, like, maybe 4 times…) and which features both Emmylou Harris and Ralph Stanley — who, if you didn’t know him, was an amazing bluegrass banjo player; just legendary, but he has since passed on.
Okay, so I leave you with that today. Enjoy! I love you guys. See ya!
Fire in the Blood/Snake Song
Come walk with me through the pines
In the morning sun.
The birds are singing in the pines
In the morning sun.
Come stand with me, my darling one,
Among the trembling pines.
We feel His presence all around
Fire in the sky.
You can’t hold me, I’m too slippy,
I do no sleeping, I get wandering
You can touch me if you want to,
I got poison, just might bite you.
Lie in circle on the sunlight
Shine like diamonds on a dark night.
Ain’t no mercy in my smile,
Only fangs and sweet beguiling.
Future, he don’t try to find me
Skin I’ve been through dies behind me
Solid hollow wrapped in hatred,
Not a drop of venom wasted.
You can slip and try to find me
Hold your breath and flat deny me
Makes no difference to my thinking
I’ll be here and you start sinking.
© 2012 Nick Cave, Warren Ellis