who has time for homework?
Tuesday, Oct. 10, 2006 - 14:39

There's a lot of writing that goes on here. Interestingly. I want to be part of something.

I started writing about Mabel Mains in Australia and worked on it some more in Seattle with always this vague idea in the back of my mind that the setting was here, in this town, at my old college campus. Except set in the anonymous midwest, perhaps.

Do you realize that Detroit is considered the midwest even though it was founded in 1701 and even though it is on eastern time and even though it is not west of anywhere except the east coast?

...(ten minutes later)...

I got distracted. I decided to fact-check a bit, to see if Detroit really is considered to be midwest, since my sole source for that claim is my old friend the cute boy, who is from there, but then somehow for some reason I started imagining myself as a DJ at the college radio station here and I started working on my playlist.

But I was going to mention the Tigers and how I'm secretly happy that they're going to the playoffs (or whatever it's called in baseball), even though whenever I see a Tigers game on TV I hiss and boo. (I think, months back, when I was drinking a lot, that one night when I went back to Seattle and got belligerently drunk, throwing knives and embarrassing my poor friend, it was because the Tigers were on. Or else the Mariners were on and they were losing.) (This leads me into another point.)

From this vantage point it appears that I was drinking a lot. This spring, this summer. Spending time with friends, especially towards the end, and I knew that lifestyle was going to end and wanted to, you know, enjoy it while I could. And it was fun and it was fine but now I realize that maybe I was doing it too much and I wasn't being nice about it.

Well, particularly, regarding that one friend. When I'm drunk I'm terribly terribly fun and engaging and talkative and here was this friend who I wasn't attracted to but it was a challenge to hook him in and I had this terrible urge to take some boy's heart and fucking rip it out, just because I could, just to get them back, to say "take that, boys, you stupid mean fucks, I can do it too".

I didn't do it but he doesn't really like me anymore because of one night in our hometown when I was talking (flirting) with every single male specimen I could find, in front of him.

Or maybe I did do it.

I don't go out drinking here. I have no money and I have no friends and I have other things to do and I don't want to have such a toxic lifestyle.

I should write more about Mabel Mains. I might change her name, it's too close to Myrtle B. Jones. And I kind of really want a radio show, even if it is in the middle of the night. Except that would be so cold. But I know such good music! And I can't make just one playlist, I have too many shows to do! There would be the countryish one, the bluesy one, the loud fast one, the heartripping indie one, the punky one. I could do a show (or two or five) of bands I saw in Seattle. Oh my. I need to go talk to the radio people. Please, do you need some help?

I'm going to die. Handshake Drugs just came on! My playlist is so good it's killing me.