A general sleepy-time depression has descended over everything this week. I can’t bring myself to watch the Republican convention. What used to be my party has turned into a religious movement. I got in a fight with a lady at work. I’m sleeping too much.
The novel is on hold for now. I’d rather not look at it till I’m good and ready to plunge back in for more than just a few hours.
The girl across the hall is at it again. Weird, I only hear her moans, no guy. If I go outside for a cigarette will she think I’m spying on her?
I once saw a book about depression called “The Noonday Demon.” That’s exactly it — I get up early all zippity doo dah and everything is going just fine. Then, right as I finish my lunch the same old ugly lethargy sets in. It’s always right around the same time. Maybe it is because I’ve just had a moment’s look at some kind of freedom I call “lunch,” but now I have to give it up and go back to reality and that makes me sad. Or maybe it is just this damned San Diego climate, the way summer always overstays its welcome right up to the day before the day before my birthday.
Julia’s getting a new roommate upstairs. His name is Cameron. I haven’t met him yet. Good to have another guy in here. Not sure why I’m nervous about meeting him.
Found a bunch of old pictures of me and Julia as teens. Didn’t know so many pictures of those years still existed, let alone in my posession. Need to get them all scanned and saved. Not sure what I’m going to do with them.
Sunday is arts and crafts day with Julia. She’s got a ton of blank canvasses just waiting for us to go piss wild crazy all over them. I’m already planning what to do with mine. I remember a German or Swiss lady artist I discovered at the Reina Sofia, she was one of the first collagistas with Picasso. I fully intend to plagiarize her work wholesale.
Read a lot of blogs today and I cannot for the life of me figure out how they do it. The guest blogger on Elegant Variation is going for a record number of posts. If you look at the time stamps, he’s posting once a minute, which suggests the texts were prewritten. Not exactly spur-of-the-moment inspiration. Still, they are damn good thoughts from an experienced writer and teacher, and a couple of them I’ve saved for future reference.
I need to find a really cool painting that deals with the subject/theme of fathers and/or sons. Preferably Spanish. There don’t seem to be very many comprehensive art galleries online.
Finished Obama’s memoir yesterday (pretty good, up until he gets to Kenya, where he just sort of wanders around and meets a bunch of family whose identities and relationships are almost impossible to keep track of). Needed a new book today and just couldn’t wait for Amazon in the mail, so I printed my wish list and went to Border’s (I know, I’m a traitor to everything I stand for. Principles’ worst enemy is impatience). I was surprised to stumble across Tao Lin’s EEE EEE EEEEEE (did I type the correct number of Es?) I will read it, someday I will, really. Tried the first two pages. His first two sentences start with three guys with plain names, and nothing to distinguish them from each other. Not promising.
In the end I purchased Bolano’s”By Night in Chile.” Not sure if I made the right choice, since I hate reading the same author twice when I’ve got so many other writers to read for the first time — when I read a second title by the same author, feel like I’m cheating the others. Still, el Caudillo will be ecstatic to see me read a fellow Chileno, despite his family’s support for Pinochet.
New favorite song — “Kids” by MGMT.
Countdown to Portland — 16 days.
It is hot and sticky and gross and I do not look forward to getting in to bed like this.
