Waiting for spring. Bleah. Everyone was sick last week, then better, and now Ray’s sick again, so I’m stuck home today. Bored…. Don’t want to wash any more laundry. Don’t want to clean smelly, disgusting stains off furniture. Don’t want to wash the dishes. Hm…let’s try screwing with the blog code…come up with something more…purple. […]
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Stories. How to tell a story, 3-year old version: Start with “Once upon a time.” Then something terrible happens. Then something else terrible happens. As soon as sommething good happens, say “The End.” …Once upon a time, the two hand-spiders were chased by terrible bears and terrible snakes and had lots of adventures, but then
New Year. Finish novel. Submit. Start Best of All Possible Beauregards. Stay on track for buying a house, shoot for mid-year 2006. Pay attention, especially to my daughter, who has trouble saying what she means, and to my husband, who sometimes does, too. In general, do the things I tell myself, wouldn’t it be a
Tom Waits. New album, Real Gone. On Rhapsody, the mini-review: “Real Gone sounds like the cut end of corrugated metal: in other words, it’s instant vintage Waits. — Sarah B.” Granted, the review was probably written by someone who considers Bone Machine vintage Waits, but a good assessment. Not as good as Mule Variations, but