I made meatloaf

Made enough for three meals and two sandwiches. This is one of my comfort foods, believe it or not. A meatloaf sandwich on white bread with Sandwich Spread, Tostitos and a Dr. Pepper -- and sometimes a big, sweet pickle -- and any bad mood I'm in vanishes. But it's got to be a certain style of meatloaf. My recipe?

2 lbs of ground beef
1 can Campbell's Tomato Soup (mixed with 1 can of water)
1/2 of a small Green Pepper, chopped up
1/2 of a small Red Pepper, chopped up
2 tbsp. of chopped onion (you can add more; I'm just not a big onion fan)
2 tbsp. of Teriyaki sauce.
3 medium potatoes
4-5 medium carrots

Mix the beef, peppers, onion and Teriyaki sauce together and form into a loaf, put in a casserole dish.
Peel and cut the potatoes into halves or quarters.
Peel and cut the carrots into chunks.
Surround the meat with the potatoes and carrots.
Ladle the tomato soup over the meat and veggies.
Cover the casserole dish.
Cook at 375 for 1 hour +/- (until the potatoes are done).

It's VERY rich, a hint on the sweet side...and I could just about live on that and the sauce that it winds up with. I've also made it with a bay leaf...and sometimes added a cup of cooked rice or uncooked oatmeal to the meat to make it go farther, but then you need to add another can of tomato soup to keep it from getting dry.

Not at ALL good for you, but very filling...and it makes me want to do this --

That's Benjamin Godfre, an underwear model who was a gymnast (I think) or maybe he was just a skateboarder boi. He's also what I refer to as comfort food (got this from Salmagundi; see blogs I follow).

I'm feeling pretty wicked, right now. I've been going over LD for typos and did find a couple but threatened to slip into my usual "this is crap" phase, so I derailed it with the meatloaf and the photo. And now I'm wondering if I'll use this for Brendan, too.

There's something in POS that's too restrained and he's pushing to break free. Something's not quite right about what I've done, so far...and I think this is leading me to what that something is. Whatever. I now know what to do about the tattoo to keep it real instead of merely symbolic.

I posted "pillow boy's wink" on my desktop, so he's gazing at me anytime I'm on my computer. My brain is beginning to notice.

Or is THIS the real me?

Just to show I'm not all that bad...

C'est moi...totalment.

First casualty

I dropped my framed photo of John Huston and it shattered into pieces. I was hanging it on the wall by the front door and got distracted. Oh, well...I got everything else up on the walls without catastrophe.

I'll be in Secaucus, NJ the week of the 12th.  Spent most of today setting that up and canceling my trip to Philly. While Southwest won't give you a refund on your ticket, they will let you use all of its value for another flight, and that's without a penalty charge. That's why I prefer to fly them, even though their flights are getting to be more and more crowded.

Y'know, the first time I went to Ireland I flew Aer Lingus from LA, non-stop to Dublin then on to Shannon, since I was staying in Galway. This wasn't that long after 9/11 and the plane was only about 2/3 full. Plus it was off-season, since I was going in March. Man, I got spoiled on that flight. Same coming back. A full row to myself so I could stretch out and snore. It almost makes you want to travel Business Class, it's so much nicer...on flights other than Southwest's; all Business class does there is get you to the head of the line. That's getting harder and harder to tolerate.

Lately I've found it harder to stay tolerant of people who's opinions are just plain wrong, in my eyes. And I'm not talking simple politics, here, but also business and general opinions. Verizon started pulling some crap on me so I said I was canceling my service...and suddenly I got a $100 Visa gift card and everything cleared up. Seems since my Mac Mini is on the older side, they had to allow for that instead of force me to upgrade to a newer version of my search engine...one that required I upgrade to OS Leopard. Don't need to, no more.

I even got into an argument with someone I sort of knew on FaceBook over whether or not pouring hot sauce into a child's mouth as punishment is child abuse. Apparently some woman in Alaska did it to a boy she'd adopted from Russia in order to get onto Dr. Phil, then was charged with child abuse and convicted. She now faces up to a year in jail. I say good, that she deserved worse. He said it was a governmental overreach, that it was equivalent to washing a child's mouth out with soap (something else I think is wrong, considering the crap soap's made from, these days; hell, I can't even use some of it on my skin). I was stunned, and after some back and forth on it where he could not even begin to see where he was absolutely, completely and totally wrong, I un-friended him. What's really sad is, only two other people agreed with me; the rest of the commenters just made jokes about it.

In fact, I've un-friended a number of people on FaceBook, including family. I no longer feel the need to tolerate what I see are appallingly stupid attitudes and actions. I mean, anyone who tries to justify child abuse is unredeemable in my eyes and not worth my time. The same goes for people who turn their back on their own blood relatives. And there are too damn many people running around in the world spouting off things they were told are true but fly in the face of facts to even consider getting into a debate with them; Seriously, trying to discuss reality with someone from the Tea Party is like trying to convince a Goodyear tire that it's really a space ship. It's an exercise in stupidity and you look foolish trying.

I'm tired of dealing with people who are silently toxic to me...and I'm sure some of them think I'm really the toxic one. And maybe I am. Maybe I'm finally giving in to my inner asshole and saying, "Fuck it." Next thing you know, I'll be buying a house just so I can stand on the front porch and yell, "Keep off my lawn, you damn kids" at the neighborhood brats.

World, meet the next generation of Scrooge. "Hi, world...now get the fuck to work!"

Light peeks in from the left

I'd been doing paperwork all day -- mainly throwing out years' worth of crap that is no longer necessary to keep -- when a though sliced into me.  I'm chucking my past into a shredder.  It hit when I was digging into my box for "2007"; that's when I began to really push to make a career as a screenwriter.  I went through file folder after file folder after file folder of letters and offers and claims and attempts to get people to read my work and the notes on their polite refusals, when they even bothered to respond, as well as all the other avenues I took to improve my chances (career counsellor, workshops, competitions entered, grants applied for)...and I realized this was why my mother never threw anything away.  It was all she had of herself.  Of the life she'd been through.

Mom never lived on her own.  She lived with her mother till she got married, then with her husbands, then with her mother between husbands, then with her children.  She never had an apartment to herself.  A home to herself.  A world to herself.  She came close while working as an extra, but she'd never have done it had she not been staying with me.  She had neither the wherewithal nor the drive to try it on her own (nor the transportation ability since she didn't drive and LA can be difficult to get around in on the bus).  So she accumulated things that meant nothing to anyone but her.  Pictures of cats and dogs being cute.  Pencils she'd used almost all the way to the nub.  My old teddy bear from when I was a toddler.  Clothes she'd worn but that now didn't fit or didn't work with anything else she had.  Ephemeral tidbits of her past.

I joked about her boxes of crap...but now I can see those boxes were her life.  Because now I'm getting rid of mine, and suddenly it flat out hurt.  Because like her, this is all I have to show that I once tried to be somebody.  That I spent 30+ years trying to build a career in film and never could quite figure out how to do it in a way that I could live with.  And now can see that I tried even harder than I thought I did, but all I have to show for it is a few framed awards on a wall and two dozen boxes of useless paperwork.

Well...that and a nasty attitude that works well in my books.

Y'know that earthquake they say happened in New York and was felt all over the East Coast?  Didn't even begin to feel it; I was too busy rockin' and rollin' in my own little world.  As usual, it's all about me.

After the rain comes the slug

Meaning me. I slept till nearly 1pm, thanks to the Zyrtek I took, so got started late. But I do feel a lot more rested. I spent much of the day cleaning up my computer's settings, links and e-mails. And prepping for a trip to Philadelphia on the 6th. It's ludicrous, but air fares on the day after Labor Day were stunning in their cost -- $400 one way from Buffalo to a city that's closer than NYC? Jeez! I wound up booking a flight to Baltimore then hopping the train, which cost about a fourth of that, total.

The following week is a packing job in New Jersey. And it looks like the LA job is dead. Oh, well.

Had some interesting dreams, last night, one of which dealt with a flood in a valley-like area I was visiting.  More like a stream that was gushing over a road that I wanted to cross but was too deep, so I went a bit upstream, which was uphill, and it was a lot less intense...and then it was just water coming out of a broken pipe. Someone was with me, though I don't know who he was...except he was younger and made me happily nervous. Then we were in a dark house with windows high up in the walls, so you couldn't see out and barely had any illumination from them. That's when I woke.

I've found that when I have dreams vivid enough to remember, they sort of happen later. I don't know if it's clairvoyance or me tapping into some part of the ether more openly than when I'm writing or if I'm just remembering something that DID happen but in a different way, and later, when the deja vu thing hits and I sort of recall the dream, it's really just something similar from my past that I'd forgotten.

I don't know if that makes sense, but it works for me as an author.

Damn, I've got so much ironing to do and absolutely no drive to do it.

Rain

Glorious rain.  A downpour with showers off and on, all day.  And now it's almost chilly.  Love it.

I also sold a Kindle of BC-1.  I checked to make certain it was really available and it's got a listing in Amazon's sales calculations.  They don't do that until it's sold a copy.  Sure, it's # 79K out of 750K items available (though I really think that number should be updated) but it's now a working title.

LD is back under the red pen.  It's odd, reading it in book format instead of online or in my Word printout version.  I can already see a few places where I'd like to drop or change a word; guess that'll be me no matter what, right up to the point where they threaten to dump me because I'm such a pain.  I'd like to think it puts me in the same category as Charlie Chaplin and Bob Fosse, who were notorious in how often they'd rework their work...but I'm probably just anal-retentive.

I don't really feel like writing much, today.  I've done a lot -- have my wall of awards back up, at the foot of my bed over the TV to remind me of how close I almost came to achieving something in film; and I cleaned both my fans and the screen on my window (my eyes are still "thanking me for that).  $20 worth of laundry and a ton of ironing to do.  E-mails sent that needed to be sent.  I'm going to kick back and iron as I watch a video.  Maybe something sleazy and fun, we'll see.

And just to emphasize my mood of the moment --

I actually had a dream about this photo, the wicked little "come on" in his eye, how he's almost bashful about it.  He makes me wonder if I'm taking POS too seriously.  Makes me wonder if I need to do a rethink.  And I have no idea why he makes me wonder that...except Brendan gets a tattoo in Dublin and...

No, Brendan's just laughed at me and said, "I'm no angel, you fuckin' idiot.  And I'm no symbol of Ireland.  So stop being so fuckin' careful."

Point well made and...hopefully...taken to heart.

Bobby Carapisi is complete

Meaning it's now available in Kindle on Amazon and will be available in Nook on Barnes & Noble. I just got the word and checked. Not everything is aligned, yet (it may take up to a week for the Kindle versions to show on the same page as the paperback versions), but at least it's now as available as it can be in all three volumes. I don't know what effect this will have on sales, but I can no longer call it a detriment.

I've slipped into a serious blue mood, probably because I don't feel all that well. I'm still battling a problem with my right eye and my nose is still going nuts from all the dust I unloaded from the boxes, yesterday. And that was with me dusting everything before I packed it. I think I'll just watch a movie, tonight, and sort through a few more boxes of my crap.

I'm noticing more and more people who voted for Obama in 2008 are deciding to just not vote for President in 2012 because he's proven to be such a disappointment. Me included. I may volunteer for the Democrat running for Congress in the Buffalo area, but no money or time from me for Obama, this election. He basically is Bush's 3rd Term. And if the DNC screws the election up and lets somebody like Perry or Bachmann get into the White House (which is becoming more and more likely considering how fucking stupid the GOP has proven to be and politically inept the Dems have been), then I'll petition to move to Canada.  I'll live in friggin' Winnipeg or Calgary if I must, since they're pretty snotty about who can immigrate to Montreal, Toronto or Vancouver. But that will mean the end of the US.

I know this sounds rotten -- that I see a Republican becoming president as fatal to the country and won't help the nominal Democrat (who's really just a Republican in Dems clothing) continue with his double-dealing ways -- but I honestly don't see any reason to help the man. He and his administration have consistently spit on people like me and dismissed us and ignored us and betrayed us, then acted like we'll vote for them anyway because we have no one else to turn to. That's the attitude of an abuser, and I will not tolerate it.

More and more Democrats are seeing the best way to protect the US is to support progressives for Congress and on the state level.  Push for THEM to get in, and ignore the double-dealing cowards who currently run Washington from both sides of the aisle. If we can put in solid majorities in both Houses...maybe even veto-proof majorities...we can do what our so-called leader won't. Lead.

So if Obama wants to fuck people like me over, then it's his own damn fault if he's not re-elected. Because the truth is, I honestly cannot see him doing anything to counter the Talibangelical push to make this into a "Christian" nation; he's not built to push back. Our only hope for the Presidency is if someone runs against him for the Democratic nomination and wins it; then I'll do everything I can to get that person in.

But Obama? He can kiss my ass.

Back to Amazon

I posted a number of DVDs and books for sale on Amazon; I have a seller's account set up from back when I was jobless and broke and selling off anything I could to keep afloat.  So far, I've made $200 towards paying down the debt we ran up to bury mom.  It won't get put into my account till the end of the month, but soon as it is I'm popping a check off to my sister, and that'll cut us down to just having $800 left outstanding.  Then I can focus on lowering my Visa balance since those guys're charging 15% per year.

Kelly had an interview with Northside Independent School District for a job and I'm keeping my fingers so tightly crossed he gets it.  The pay isn't great, but it comes with benefits.  The only thing is, it'll be at a school that's hard to get to by bus so he'll have to use his bike partway there and to get home...and San Antonio has drivers that aim for bicyclists.  Not a great set-up.

Since it's an evening position, I'm still hoping he goes to St. Phillip's College.  If he can manage to get a certificate in electricity or air conditioning, it'll help him a lot in the job market...and in his self-confidence.

As for me, right now my apartment is a disaster area.  I had to unpack a couple of boxes to get to some of the things I'd sold and decided to use the packing peanuts in them for the packing job, tomorrow, which entailed doing some running around and stacking more crap everywhere.  I need more shelf space.  A LOT.

The publisher asked me to do a proof of LD anyway, so this time I printed it out and will red pen it...which meant getting a new black ink cartridge.  I'll get onto it, tomorrow.  And I can only point out typos; if I try to do any polishing, they'll drop the book and charge me for the work they've done.  Can't blame 'em, really...and it gives me an excuse to just say no to the characters.

Looks like New York's packing jobs, next month, are shaping up to be a big deal.  But it seems LA is off the table.  I'm not surprised; I know who the artist is, and the guy's reputed to be something of a freak.

Besides, I also need to do laundry.  I think I'll start on the LD proofing Sunday, as I do that.

Oddity

I just found out someone in Atlanta bought 10 paperback copies of "Rape In Holding Cell 6, volumes 1 & 2".  Again.  Makes you wonder what's going on down there.