poeto

Four days away from the day job. Nice stopping off point. See some friends tonight, movie tomorrow. Sit and watch the rain.

Been running around like crazy, working retail and trying to make the app deadline for a yaddo residency next fall. Hope they take me. Would give me a month to just write. Im behind on this novel and my (so far pretty useless) agent seems more optimistic. Occurs to me that I made almost nothing off the writing this year. Why do I call myself a writer?

Pim is up from LA. She came over Wed. night with the latest Rufus Wainright CD, very romantic. As usual felt a little lustful, but Pim is, as she puts it, post sexual, which is of course blindingly sexy, and I dont believe her but I go along with the act. Were all doomed, born to suffer and die, its all so complicated, and blah. And so we listen to the music and she leaves, and Im a little but not too frustrated. Even her dumber ideas are interesting because shes so smart and articulate, and good conversation is not quite but almost as good as sex.

Will ring in the new year with some friends, on my roof if its not raining. Great views of SF and the bay up there. Some champagne. Then the guests will clear out and Ill be alone with the greek artist, who is, thank god, not post sexual.