I abused caffeine today and now I am jumping out of my skin. Both of my legs are bouncing up and down in that uber-manic fidgety way and I imagine I’ll be up until three.

I was having major writer’s block on these two promotional articles that were due on Tuesday and then Hotmail crashed so it didn’t matter that they weren’t done because I couldn’t send them anyway – outside of my control. So today I resorted to the writer’s tried and true method of mental kerosene – two pots of coffee. The articles are done, they are sent, and I am left with Tigger legs and a palpituous heart.

Maybe I’ll crank out a rough draft of the trial Alive magazine article that’s due Tuesday.

Yes folks I actually got an email from an editor who liked my samples. She gave me two topics to choose from, either a healthy hobby or at home manicure tips. Hmmm – going to have to go with that first one because I have so many healthy hobbies to choose from and my nails are not so cured.

I did learn two exciting things in my lateral research on manicures (talking to M.B.) that I feel I should share with you: no self-respecting lesbian would have long fingernails and lesbians cruise hands. Who knew?

I have a feeling that I could write something transgressive about metro-sexual pedicures that will simply be unprintable, at least in Alive magazine. I don’t want to be that kind of writer, do I? The cues from Cosmo crap could kill me.

What do you think? Pets. Books. Blogging. Junk Shopping. Being Unemployed. Hobbies on the Cheap…

I am trying to figure out something about myself in this odd phase of life. I am trying to make this setback into an opportunity, and many other fine cliché’s, but all I am really managing is just barely managing. It’s a tip of the tongue moment though. I can feel it forming. Maybe going to Wisconsin this weekend will help me get some closure and get going again.

I went to IHOP yesterday just to get out of the house and I couldn’t decide what to order. That’s a stupid feeling, to be so indecisive that you can’t pick from price or hunger something so simple and immediate as a meal. I may be having a mental health episode.

In this weeks mental health episodic we have cooking with Carlo and a Willie B walk on:

I had this candelabra that I was going to sell in my booth and it was covered in wax so I boiled a pot of water and dipped the thing in there to melt off the wax. It worked great until I left the room. Never leave the room when boiling antique candelabras. I was just gone a second, but in that moment the candelabra began to wilt like willow bending to the water, proving that it was not in fact made of silver and so not worth what I was going to try and get for it anyway.

To add insult to injury, while I was trying to bend it straight using hot pads for insulation, the candelabra broke in two and knocked the ceramic olive oil container off the counter, shattering it and leaving me standing in a large puddle of oil with a hot broken candle holder and a dog in danger of olive oil poisoning.

Then William Burroughs emerged magically from the oil puddle like the melting witch from The Wizard of Oz, only in reverse and with a fedora instead of the pointy hat. He handed me a copy of Jack Black’s You Can’t Win and went to the freezer to make himself one of his cocktails: a rum and coke with a Benzedrine chaser. So, Will is living in the guest room now and has several interesting theories about how to get the oil out of the linoleum, “Burn the fucking place down, that’ll teach um.” You gotta love old Will for practical incisiveness and mystical black opps manifestations.

That’s part of why you read this blog, curve balls from the land of crazy.