the optimist´s bitter soliloquy

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I must find these boots.

march 14, 2005


Wow, this site is out of date. I was thinking today that I should revive the old girl, get back in the habit of regular personal essays. Some of the old ones hold up OK. EEEEEEET LEEEEEVES!

i´m not making this up

Standing corrected, there are states that start with I and H.

good morning

Wow, so it's good to have a web page. No contacts from the comics publishing world, or even really anyone wanting to buy an issue of my comic book, but having two beloved friends track me from two or three pages deep in google is pretty frikkin awesome.

So realizing that almost none of my regular followers from when this site was last active (in '03)are going to still be around to read this, I feel, for the sake of documentation and posterity, to sum up the events of the interposing two years. Ugly, no work of art, but necessary.

I'm sitting in a closet that attaches to my living room by a pair of big french doors. It's a really big closet, with its own outside window. My girlfriend Margaret and I both own more books than clothes, so it has become library, computer room, and chicken hatchery.

Um, yeah. Wednesday we drove out to Monroe, WA, and bought 10 Bantam chicks. Don't tell our landlord. You could fit two of them in a teacup. We can do this because we are buying a house.

I work two jobs. I write for Tacoma's LGBT resource center, the Rainbow Center. I do much of the webmistressing, write the newsletter, and the grants. In my other job, I just got promoted to supervisor and official beauty counter lesbian at Tacoma's only health food store, Marlene's. At which there is much skullduggery about unionizing. A good topic for a forthcoming essay.

I met Margaret through match.com while I was still in Mexico. She recently got promoted to manager at the local Borders and is having a hell of a time of it. But it means we can afford a house, which we need to get now before we get priced out of this market. The one we should be closing on next week is cute as hell, and has a big yard, by Tacoma standards. Margaret is a displaced Nebraska farm girl. Agricas ergo cluck.

Ok, enough of this. I felt like I needed the writing practice, so the essays will be back. Expect lots about chickens and class warfare and health food.