Saturday, March 31, 2012


I began writing dialogue for the new secret film project that I’m working on with Kyle. I don’t love what I came up with yet, but it’s a good foundation to work off of. I was hoping to see Elo tonight before she leaves for Seattle, but it was not to be. Kyrie and I had dinner at Shojin in Little Tokyo. As always it was tres yums. My poor Stina. She’s had a frustrating evening. I wish I could have seen her tonight as well. We went to NoHo to see Cynthia, but that only lasted a few moments.

Friday, March 30, 2012


I didn’t win the lottery, but the day was still good. I went to the gym, went to the airport, and I outlined two episodes of this thing I’m writing now. I have too many writing projects going. I hope to finish one soon so I can check it off and have less to ponder all day long. Kyrie got her wisdom teeth pulled. She’s been good about the pain. Better than I, but I didn’t take any of the pain meds, so I could play with them later. The night I finally did, I had been drinking and puked.

Thursday, March 29, 2012


I launched a new blog. It’s called Weekly Wish. I’m going to use it to make a wish every week, even though it’ll be for something I know will never come true. I tried calling Disco today. And Amirah. And Jessica. Only Elo answered her phone. She’ll be moving to Seattle soon. That makes me sad. I don’t see her enough, but at least she was always within driving distance. I went to the gym tonight since I don’t have to work tomorrow. I ran 2.84 miles. That took me 35 minutes. I’m slow, but I feel better being active. 

Wednesday, March 28, 2012


I had a talkative session with my psychologist today; it didn’t end early, nor did it leave me feeling like it helped at all. I saw my psychiatrist immediately after. I was annoyed with how much he wanted to talk. He’s there to give me meds and talk about stuff related to meds; my whining is supposed to be done with the other one. At home, I made a good sandwich: sprouted wheat bread, soy turkey, tempeh bacon, daikon sprouts, tomatoes, vegenaise and brown mustard. I’m going to go to the gym and not think about anything for a while. 

Tuesday, March 27, 2012


I talked to Disco today, which is always good, even when it’s kind of glum. I love that girl so much; I wish I could be of more use to her. This will sound awful, but I’ve been wondering if me dying might help her. My chess opponent at work conceded before checkmate today; that was satisfying. It’s only Tuesday and I’m already looking forward to the weekend. I’ve been feeling too worn out to write after work during the week, so I’m counting on the weekend to get more pages completed. I hear a helicopter overhead right now. Dumb. 

Monday, March 26, 2012


I was thinking that my psychologist has, on more than one occasion, spoken about how difficult it is for parents to lose a child. I wonder where that’s coming from. I wonder what she’s going to tell me after my parents are dead. Kyle and I argue fiercely; this new project is going to be interesting, even on that front. I’ve outlined a lot of the eight episodes already, but I need to finish outlining before I start writing dialogue. I feel distant and detached. Today, I told Rachel T. we outlasted MySpace. Who knew we would still be stranger-friends?

Sunday, March 25, 2012


It was a nice rainy day today. The freeways were an absolute mess. I was in Los Angeles for a meeting with my writing group. I’m fortunate to have them. They gave me excellent notes on The Scribbled Victims and convinced me to not rush to finish it just to meet the Nicholl’s deadline. That lifted a tremendous weight off me mentally. The drive home was less rainy, but much darker. I listened to The Black Angel’s Death Song on repeat while I made my way back home. I’m talking to hardly anyone right now. I like watching Cynthia though. 

Saturday, March 24, 2012


I skipped the personal training session I had scheduled at the gym this morning, simply because I didn’t want to get out of bed. I know I’m becoming depressed again. I spent most of my day with Severa Miles and Kyle Saylor, working on the re-scoring of The Vow. My drive home was a thoughtful one. I’m feeling slightly suicidal. I’m just so upset. On the upside of things, Kyle presented me with a writing opportunity that could prove lucrative. I’m hoping I’ll have time to finish writing The Scribbled Victims before May first and do this project as well. 

Friday, March 23, 2012


I went into work this morning and discovered a checkmate on the chessboard I did not see the afternoon before. A few hours passed since I wrote that sentence, and I have a second checkmate waiting for my co-worker. I’m playing well today. I’m still upset over people. I submitted the first 71 pages of The Scribbled Victims to my writing group. I could have sent more, but I already felt like I was rushing. I think I’ll finish the full draft by April 1. I’m not looking forward to people today; I’d like to be alone with some books.

Thursday, March 22, 2012


I took a break today at work. I sat outside and drank an entire coffee before going back in. That was nice to just sit and look at things and people walking around. It was even out in the sunlight. I’m getting hurt right now. I don’t think the people realize it. There are two and they’re completely unrelated. I can let one go, but not the other. I’d really like to stick something through me to make me think of something else. I’m struggling to make the right words come out in this script, but I am getting them.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012


Like you, I love poppy spit and playing slicey pie. I wish I could get you to turn your back on the loves that aren’t good for you, but we’re stubborn in opposite directions—I won’t start and you won’t stop. Who am I to talk? I hold onto people who are terrible for me. I don’t know how to help you, but I haven’t given up yet. Fuck that ding-dong for saying he wants to quit you. There must be a way out, but if you’re going to do it anyway, I kinda want to fall down with you.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


I deleted scenes but I’m still going to be at least four pages late with my midpoint. I looked for more stuff to trash, but didn’t find anything. I’m thinking I may just have to move on and forget the standard beats. I’m becoming nervous that I won’t have this script done in time. I was hoping to have enough time to finish it and do a second act rewrite of Forever Candy. I suppose anything is possible. I still have more than a month. My new business cards arrived. There’s actually color on them. Black and bright blue ink.

Monday, March 19, 2012


I took the day off from work. Spent my time resting, cleaning, and deleting scenes from my script. I feel like the pace of it is too fast, but I’m also still about four pages overwritten. Tonight, while emptying the trash, I turned and the recycle bin I was holding hit the doorframe and then bounced into my face, knocking the bead out of one of my lip rings. With my fat fingers, I’ll never get it back in. I’ll have to find a time to go see my piercer and have him do it. I need to call Jessica. 

Sunday, March 18, 2012


This is our last day in Massachusetts. Kyrie and I woke up earlier than we would otherwise, to take a trip to Lowell where Steve is from and to Chelmsford where he’s buried. Stupid me, I didn’t call the cemetery in advance to make sure their office was open on Sunday. It was impossible to find his grave without direction. We ended up with muddy shoes, and Kyrie’s pant legs got wet. I don’t remember if I took my meds this morning, but I ate too much pizza for lunch. It will be time to leave for the airport soon. 

Saturday, March 17, 2012


I had St. Patrick’s Day dinner with Kyrie’s family. I learned that you’re supposed to put vinegar on your cabbage. I think I prefer it that way. I was able to write during the day. I even wrote outside while sitting on a porch swing. It was serene. It was pretty ideal. I’m four pages overwritten though. Kyrie’s family reminds me of my own. Kyrie’s uncle Ray says funny things. He reminds me of my friend Steve. Maybe it’s a Massachusetts type of humor. I might be able to visit Steve’s grave tomorrow before we fly back. I’d like that. 

Friday, March 16, 2012


Kyrie and I are in Massachusetts. It’s cold. Like a dumbass, I forgot to pack a jacket. I also forgot to pack my phone charger, but that will probably end up being a good thing. We rented a car for twice what we expected after I opted for the insurance and was told the tax alone was $70. I listened to the GPS robot lady and stayed left, which resulted in me blowing through a non-cash tollbooth. I’m not looking forward to finding out how much that ticket will be. I met Kyrie’s family. I don’t think they hated me. 

Thursday, March 15, 2012


I’m writing this from inside a crowded airport terminal. Our flight will be a little late.  We’re going to Boston. Something today kinda freaked me out. It was this woman I saw more than once. The way she looked at me made me think of that scene from Crime and Punishment where that old man in the crowd looks right at Raskolnikov and mouths the word “murderer.” Other than that, the day was significantly more relaxed at work. I stopped text messages from being delivered to my phone, so I only saw text messages when I decided to retrieve them. 

Wednesday, March 14, 2012


My session with my psychologist ran overtime. We talked about stress in general and people who stress me out in specific. My psychologist has heard me complain about feeling overloaded with communication—I had fourteen email addresses, which we have since scaled back to nine. But today she was shocked when she asked about text messages and I answered that I receive an average of 300 per day. I turned my ringer off since I left the session. She wants me to stop feeling like I have to reply. She wants me to only check my email once per day. 

Tuesday, March 13, 2012


I don’t think I’ve ever been this intrigued with such ugly writing. I’m reading the latest Dennis Cooper novel, The Marbled Swarm. The text seems difficult for the very purpose of being difficult. The narrator is an asshole. Yet, I’m only a tenth of the way in, and I’m already lamenting it being over too quickly. I wish he would write longer books. Today felt long. I got a lot done at work, so that was good. I had a serious conversation with Casi, which was also good. Mucho hearts. Our chess game took the entire workday and I won.  

Monday, March 12, 2012


Something’s wrong. I saw two different people at different places standing and waiting on my drive into work. My eyes jumped into the eyes of a driver of a passing car. It was a cop. It came to mind that it’s been over nineteen years since you were murdered, S______. I heard your footsteps. My shoes don’t make a sound on carpet. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I talked to l___ on Wednesday. Last night, Sarah asked me, “Do you think there’s something wrong with you?” I answered that in terms of normal versus abnormal, yes—for us both.