I Was Tagged and Didn't Be It

For a really long time. I guess I suck at playing this game.

My friend Gay tagged me with this thing a while ago, and I forgot about it until I was reading her blog just now.

Gay rules, btw. She spent HOURS on the phone with me a couple of days ago to help me with my writing. She told me a great deal of great information. I just have to assimilate it all. I'm taking her advice because I think she's a tremendously talented writer. Her blog is listed in my links section. You can find her writing pretty easily.

Anyway, I've never actually played when I've been tagged. But today Zane is playing upstairs. He's being Spiderman and he has to "hang out with his chicks". His chicks include Wonder Woman, Starfire, Raven, "the Ice Girl", Lava Girl, and whoever else he stumbles across during the day who's cute. Sometimes the chicks get kidnapped and he has to save them. Sometimes one or more of them is upset because something happened in their family. Like, Raven was just crying because her dog was lost. The Ice Girl was just back from the hospital the other day, crying because her dad was sick. He cuddles them. Once he made out with Starfire. I asked him where he learned "make out"--his cousin. A year older--that much wiser. When I asked him what making out was, Zane said, "It's just kissing. Some people call it making out."

Ah, the joys of three-year-olds.

So here's my answers to being tagged:

1. What were you doing ten years ago?

In July of 1998, I was a professional psychic. I had an office with a regular clientele. I taught classes and workshops on how to access the mind, speak with cells, manipulate reality, heal people--stuff like that. My son Caspian was six months old. I spent long amounts of time in the mountains during the summer (four or five day stretches) exploring ghost towns and uncovering treasures from 120-year-old garbage dumps. I was more naive than I am today, even after having finally settled down from a ten-year, cross-country learning experience I like to call, "after highschool". I learned a lot ten years ago. I'm finally ready to apply it to life today.

2. What five things are on your "to do list" today?

I hate to do lists. I have to clean the bathroom today. I want to go over our address a few times with Zane--oh here's an opportunity-- He does so good! We have to go to the grocery store. I totally don't want to. In order to do that I have to take a shower. I need to do the dishes and cook dinner tonight. That's six. I'm an over-acheiver. See? I don't need lists.

3. What would you do with a billion dollars?

This is interesting. My wife and I are playing a game where we have an imaginary bank account. It's to help us feel like we've got all we need, and that we can get the things we want. It's pretty freakin' fun. Terri does it more than me, but I chime in with donating money to friends, and building green houses, and setting up a real estate company to acquire houses near us, move them to give us great garden and yard space, and rent them out somewhere else.

I'd give fifty to a hundred grand to a long list of my friends. I'd donate millions to space exploration. Millions to renuable energy resources. Millions to save the Earth.

I'd set up a modest sustainable community near where I live now, invite artists and architects to come and build something worthwhile and then live there.

I'd buy music lessons for all of my family (or wrangle some out of some of the rad musicians that would come live in our community).

I'd see Machu Picchu and go back to St. Lucia for a month.

I'd put whatever was left into whatever would make some money, and keep it generating. Invest it in our community's projects like organic gardens, our winery and artwork.

I'd spend the rest of my days doing exactly what I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it and let the rest of my family do that, too. I'd write, and play, and love, and dance dance dance. And grow herbs and make concoctions from them.

Funny, I'm listening to my music player on a random mix, and the song, For the Love of Money just came on. You know it... "Money money money money... MONEY!" It's comin' to me now, I feel it.

4. List the places you have lived.

Yikes. I'll try. California, Puerto Rico, New York, California, Idaho, Texas, Washington, Idaho, New York, Idaho, Colorado, Idaho, Michigan, Illinois, Idaho, Wisconsin, Washington. I think. Several places in Idaho, two or three different spots in NY, and two places in WA. I like where I am now the best out of all of 'em.

5. List the jobs you have had.

Ha hahaahaha! Seriously? Good gawd, there's no way I can remember all my jobs. I was a lot-boy, a bus-boy, a bag-boy, an assistant industrial radiologist, a darkroom technician, a janitor, a nanny, a QA inspector. I've worked in shipping and recieving, construction, manufacturing, and the service industry. I was a pro-psychic. I am a pro-writer. I can finish concrete, and I'm a professional painter. I was a forest fire lookout--I lived in a tower on top of a mountain all by myself for five months. I've shoveled cottage cheese, dirt, and shit. I've panhandled, and that's the least of the nefarious trades in which I engaged in my daring youth. I lived off unemployment for over a year. I tried being a professional student, but only got two years into that before the rest of my life fell apart and I changed completely. I'm a househusband, too.

There's an off-the-top-of-my-head list. There's much, much more.


6. List the people you'd like to know more about.

Hmmm... Nicola Tesla. Uma Thurman. Gay Degani. Enki. George Lucas. Prince.

There's probably a lot more people I'd like to know more about out there. Those people came to mind.


So there ya go, Gay and the rest of you. I was tagged, and I played. It's most likely because it was only six questions long.

Actually, it was pretty fun to do. Now I may tag someone else....

It's Nearing the End

Of July.

It may seem, if you follow my online life, that I've been doing nothing this month. I mean, take this blog--the last post was at the beginning of July. Obviously, some time has passed in the online world, and this blog, for one thing, has nothing to show that I've even been here. It's because I haven't been.

I'm not much of a sun-person. Don't get me wrong, I love the sun. I literally worship it. But its effects, like all good things, hurt me in big doses. While I've been known to be less affected by things like pain-killers and cocaine, the sun affects me more than it does most other people. It burns the crap out of me. Quickly.

So I do my best to take it in in small doses. I tend to like to live where there are short summers. Moving to the Pacific Northwest was actually very obvious a choice for me to make. It just took me a long time to get here.

I like overcast. I like it a lot.

However, I'm learning that I like to be outside for the times when it's not. I'm digging the sunburn while it's hot enough to do it. And so, when Zane says, "Daddy, let's go play outside." I rarely say no.

That's where I've been. Outside. Lovin' it. And play is productive.

I thought I'd show you what we've been up to out there:


We make symbolistic chalk drawings and lie under them for strange photos.


We look at lavender and pink interlopers.


I build this wall here. It's getting taller. It's taken a year. It's actually a foot taller than in this pic now, and that bench over there is done. Looks rad, too. And it's comfy.


Today we went to the beach to look for cool stones. We'll put them in the secret pathway after nap-time.




I spent a couple minutes teaching Zane the basics of golf. I call this photo: Keep Your Left Arm Straight.


I take pictures of spider webs.


Terri hangs out on the porch.


Luke lies around.


I break unbreakable tools. Yeah, I don't know what's up with that. Terri hates it. It gets expensive.

So that's what I've been up to. I've been editing a little story I love more and more about a girl and her zombies. Everyone loves zombies, right? Junie does. And I love Junie. I just don't get to spend a lot of time with her while the sun is shining. But who does, really?

Sunlight hurts me. It's so true I made up a t-shirt that says so.

But I like it in these small doses.

So this is interesting:

For quite some time now--at least two years--I've been selling t-shirts that say, My red hair gives me super powers. Cute, yes. True, too. I made them up when I learned that redheads have a higher tolerance for pain than the rest of the hair-colored people out there.

So for a couple of years, I've been selling them. And they sell well. I've sold quite a few of them.

Here's what I'm finding. A lot of people google that phrase now to find my shirts. A LOT.

That means there's a lot of those shirts floating around out there.

So how about this:

Send me pics of you in that shirt!

I know, what are the chances that you've both bought my shirt, and are reading this blog entry, right? Ya never know, ya never know.

So if you have one of those shirts at home, or if you've got a sticker, mug, button, pin, mousepad, or something that says my red hair gives me super powers, send a pic along and I'll start a gallery here or something. Comment on this thread, and I'll tell you where to send it.

I'm curious to see how many years it'll take to get a pic. Google away, my fellow red haired googlers!

Sunday at the Disco

It's Sunday morning, and I've only had a few sips of coffee. Don't worry, by the time I'm done with this, it will have been a couple of cups, and by the end of this entry, things should make sense.

(If you were with me during my year of bedhead, then you know what I'm like first thing in the morning.)

I probably won't really take long enough for more than this cup to go down. And it's going down fast. I just really want to make one quick announcement.

Every Day Fiction, that lovely zine I speak of so oft, has published my story, To Save the Disco. It's an all-dialogue fantasy comedy. Do you like Narwhals? Who doesn't, right? I know one guy who doesn't like them anymore.


Read why here: To Save the Disco

Please give it a read if you've got a few minutes. It's really short. As always you can rate it, and comment about it. I love that part.

Have a great Sunday.

(Not even a whole cup.)

Kit-Kats, Rootbeer, and a Lightning Storm


Being fairly new to living in the Pacific Northwest, I was surprised to learn tonight that the amazing thunderstorm going on near the horizon (translate that--over Tacoma) is an ultra-rare occurrence here. The dude on the news said people were telling him they hadn't seen lightning like this in five or six years. (Okay, it's already urban-myth. Nevermind.)

I haven't been inside eating Kit-Kats and drinking rootbeer for the entire storm. In fact, I'll go back out and watch the fireworks in just a moment. Maybe the title of this should include "Smokes on the Porch". Naw, it's long enough.

I just had to come in to thank Withersin for accepting another story of mine. I'm excited to say that my short story, Sculpting, is forthcoming in their wickedly excellent magazine.

If you've got a taste for quality, unique, truly interesting fiction and non, give Withersin a read. You'll like it. I love it. I'm happy to be included in its sinister pages.

My story, Red and Black, will appear in Withersin this fall in their issue Bone 2.2 So far that's coming in late October. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll talk about it when it's closer to Autumn.

Thank you, Withersin!

In other news, I fixed-up my myspace page today. I like it better this way. Come by and say hi---> Mymyspace

Happy Explosives in the Hands of Idiots Day!