12/29/23

Liveblogging the 3rd to last day of the year

10:15 AM

Another slow morning. Woke up around 430 and never really fell back asleep, and didn’t feel like getting up until around 930. Throughout those five half-lucid hours, I kept remembering I’d told Megan I would Liveblog today, and thinking what I would write about based on what I was currently thinking about instead of falling asleep. So I guess I’ll be updating this post throughout the day.

I haven’t been writing or reading much at all the last few weeks. Mostly just sleeping or press-related queries or waiting the day out in various ways, partly due to holidays I guess but more so just feeling heavy, buried under mud. Not sure how much I feel like saying about it.

Finally got up and took a long shower. Megan hadn’t left for work yet so we got to hug and flirt and talk a bit, which turned into her deciding to burn charcoal incense throughout the whole house in a little metal dish she carries with tongs. It does seem to reset a space somehow.

Made some oatmeal, brought coffee and water up to my desk, and coaxed Beavis upstairs into his bed beside my desk, so I guess I’m spending today in my office.

10:33 AM

Everything is quiet. I always find the last six days of the year bizarre in how the world feels to go on hold. Felt different when my parents were alive and there was always a lot of visiting and eating and sharing.

I’ve been trying to convince myself to fear less the passing of time. I spend a lot of worry on feeling like a window is always closing, or that soon I’ll be too old to do what I want. But staying trapped in who you used to be is much more frightening in comparison, so in some way aging is a continuous relief.

One thing I’ve started noting too is that human history is very short. I think as a child time used to seem insurmountable, like there was so much that had already been done that there would never be enough time to catch up and accomplish anything. But the truth is more like nobody knows what they are doing, and the points of access are always changing. Death would be a beginning rather than an end for an entity that has realized the completion of its path, like turning over a plate.

Going to refill my coffee and water and then work on revising a new story I’d finished a draft of at the end of November.

10:46 AM

Caught myself singing “I was raised up with Beavis / Beavis // I was raised up with Beavis / Beavis” (to the tune of Project Pat’s “Raised in the Projects”) both as I came up and down the stairs from the kitchen.

Talked with Megan a little about our blogging as she got ready to head to the office, both of us seeming in good moods today despite last night’s minor argument. We’ve both been stressed and on edge in addition to both having complex feelings this time of year, but we’ve also gotten a lot better about working through the tension as it appears. I realize sarcasm had become so natural to me I don’t even understand the way it feels on the other side sometimes. It’s a relief to have time and space to learn to see yourself and decide how you want to be.

The real Beavis is sleeping.

OK, now actually going to work on my story.

11:17 AM

Really not feeling like working on this story. What’s the point of writing stories? I feel like I never find the urge to see them through, like I’d rather just write a long weird draft and move along to something else. Part of that is maybe because it feels like there are less clear venues than ever that feature non-commercial writing, and also partly because so few things and given space to bear an impact. It’s like mostly no one trusts anyone anymore and so we’re all just waiting for a spot to be standing on top of the pile long enough to share the link. I used to write past that like, who cares anyway who reads anything, and that’s still fine. That’s how you learn. I guess I just start to wonder when all the learning adds up to anything but having learned and still not learned.

Right now I’m just looking at that last sentence I wrote and thinking about people taking it and tallying up why it doesn’t make sense, instead of thinking about what might make sense about it. Weird how sometimes writing feels like carrying a slab of meat through a pack of wolves and sometimes it feels more like carrying a wolf through an abattoir.

Thinking about one of the first writing workshops I was ever in, and how the instructor yelled at me, pounding her fists on the table, because she was mad that my metaphors weren’t ones she could easily visualize inside her mind. I remember how she wouldn’t look at me as she said it, and how I was smiling. I learned a lot from her watching her tear up my work even though I didn’t agree with much of her ideas. Learning is fun.

11:32 AM

Heard a helicopter pass by overhead and imagined it being the sound of the sky ripping open. Just kind of a lazy tear, same color and texture right behind it, hanging and fluttering.

Said “lipstick fight” aloud to myself as a non-sequitur while looking at Twitter.

Decided to post this Liveblog now and update it on Substack instead of in Microsoft Word, as I have been so far, as it feels like cheating.

12:01 PM

Decided I don’t like the story I was working on so going to put it away. Not sure what to do with myself today. I guess this always happens after you publish a book, the needing to find what comes for you next. But this time I still feel stranded in the midst of the process of transmission of the book into the public view, for what should seem obvious reasons. I guess that’s part of the complexity of publishing a memoir, which contends to not be fiction but an encapsulation of your life. Which people can now take from you and do whatever they want with, subjecting it to their whims and biases without having the reckon with the difference between their own ideas and what else might exist beyond their heads.

Have sat here for the last five minutes trying to think what I want to say next about the subject. Have a bit of a headache.

12:24 PM

Sat and talked aloud to myself for a while trying to figure out what I feel like doing. Went downstairs for more coffee and tried to find a snack but we have been lazy about groceries this week and so there isn’t much. Tried to eat the remnants of an old box of granola that’s been sitting open for longer than I can remember, but it was stale and soft. Spit it into trash and threw out the box. Came back upstairs and started clicking around on tabs for websites as if one of them might produce evidence of where I should be focusing my attention.

I keep finding myself thinking about the Waitmate episode from Tim and Eric, and feeling like I feel like I’ve been on Waitmate through all of December, though I am not sure what I took the Waitmate in wait for. How many Waitmates did I take and when am I going to wake up so I can arrive where I intended? Is the only thing it could ever be always more work? Obviously not, though sometimes it’s hard to remember where else to look.

12:39 PM

Walking to the grocery to get some shit.

12:45 PM

Said “eat your dad’s fuck” aloud to myself loudly on the street as an expression of my inner rage. 

1:02 PM

Walking back home from grocery store with two big bags. Had to stop and tie the drawstring of my sweatpants so they wouldn’t fall down. It’s warm and mostly sunny out. I bought three tubs of Tillamook seasonal ice cream because they were on sale for $1.99 down from $7.99. Food pricing is so arbitrary now. Almost feels like we’re all always shopping on eBay. 

Imagined a grocery with aisles completely sealed behind plastic casing you have to meet a reserve auction bid in order to be allowed to take one of anything. Then you find out what the real price is when they ring you up. Seems normal.

Eating a fudge graham Zone Perfect bar.  

1:24 PM

Eating some Bear Naked Triple Berry Crunch “Wildly Delicious Granola.” It tastes basically like what I imagine parrots taste when they taste birdseed or something. I guess that’s wildly delicious enough to call it wildly delicious. Trying to convince myself to either go back to my story and see if it still falls apart where I think it does, or to maybe try to tackle some more realistic tasks, like paying bills.

2:12 PM

Fixed a few paragraphs in the part of the story where it really starts to not work, and made it forward until I hit another new section where it feels like it loses steam again. Stopping there for today as I already feel tired of thinking about it. Went downstairs again to fill my water glass and talked shit at myself for being lazy and not getting anything done. Talked shit at the container of raisins I bought because I couldn’t pop the plastic seal band with my bare hands (read “couldn’t” as “didn’t try to very well and thus had no chance of actually opening the raisins without getting annoyed”). Smashed the box around while I got out the scissors and cut the band and ate a really big handful of raisins to show it I can eat all the raisins I want.

Feel like I’m taking my anger out on inanimate objects again because I’m being antagonized publicly by forces that I know I should ignore but that I feel provoked to stand up and defend myself about. The way people pick parts of a story they can use to tell themselves they already understand the story because they need to understand it a certain way so they can continue to feel good about themselves, or to convince others they are good when really they are throwing rocks from behind a firewall. Honestly, it’s not enough to imagine that most sane people can see through the pettiness and cruelty of such behavior; to have to assume that the truth will always stand up over time. It’s no wonder the publishing industry is suffering when the aisles are filled with so much cowardice and pandering that any conceit of “discourse” must always contend with the half-formed brand-name opinions of halfwit wannabes who’ve made it their business to be seen and heard at any cost.

But please, keep trying to tell me how to mourn my family. I’m taking notes.

2:42 PM

Going for a run.

3:28 pm

Heard some kids screaming in the distance, stopped and stood listening to them until they appeared on the horizon, riding scooters excitedly downhill while their dad chased behind them trying to keep up.

4:06 PM

Finished running, took Beavis to the park, took a shower, now back at my desk. It’s already slowly turning toward dusk and I’ve hardly been aware enough today to register that it’s today. I’m trying to learn not to measure the day by how much you accomplished within its bounds, but otherwise it flies past so quickly I don’t know what else to remember. I guess it must be a good thing in some way that we continue streamlining our awareness of who we were and what we’ve done into tighter and tighter quarters alongside all the rest of what appears. The passing day gains shape from what it continues to include or exclude, duh.

I feel less angry now than I did earlier today, which is interesting in that I am finally conscious enough to notice the change. I’ve been working on trying to not let my moods and whims control me, which requires learning how to sort which are getting in the way more than they are allowing me to feel free to be myself.

4:35 PM

Enjoyed thinking about Obama listening to 21 Savage.

Half these artists sound like characters you’d find for hire at an inn in Lord of the Rings. Actually, they all do. Because that’s what they are.

Thought of how Megan said she likes when I say “Gotcha, bitch!” at people on the TV when they get put in their place.

I think Obama should get a Lenny Kravitz tattoo on his face in the same place 21 has the cross.

4:41 PM

Currently just sort of piddling around on the internet while waiting for Megan to get home. I don’t think I hear people say ‘piddle’ so much anymore since my Mom died. She used to say it all the time. Reminds me of my friend’s mom reminding us to ‘go tinkle’ before she’d take us out in the car with her even when we were clearly old enough to know when we needed to piss. Their family went to Disney World multiple times a year every year into adulthood, and I think both of the children ended up working for Disney in some capacity, or at least moving to live close to it. Also reminds me of having a friend over for dinner and my mom serving her strange attempt at taco salad (kidney beans, ground turkey, Catalina dressing, shredded cheese on lettuce) and how disgusted my friend was by it, refusing to finish what she’d put on his plate. Which reminds me of being fat and staying overnight at a skinny friend’s house and not feeling like I got enough to eat but being too afraid to speak up and say so, then sneaking into the kitchen after everyone else was asleep and eating their candy. So much depends on piddling around with other people’s parents before you’re old enough to change anything.

5:35 PM

Megan got home from work and we sat and talked in the living room about her day. Opened Christmas package I’d forgotten about that contained a nice book, tote bag, and card. Then we split up to go get into night mode clothes, or “jim jams” as Megan calls them.

Megan just yelled, “I want to eat hot pizza! I want to eat hot meats!” from the other room, then came around the corner into my office to discover I am liveblogging, then went on downstairs to wait for me to finish. Megan understands you can’t interrupt a live blog when the blog is live.

Ate two 40 mg edibles. Going downstairs to talk more about pizza.

6:27 PM

We are sitting in the turquoise room both doing stuff on our computers waiting for the pizza Megan just ordered from Matthew’s. I am playing Hearthstone, which is like a watered down version of Magic the Gathering but way simpler and easier to keep up with w/o having to memorize every card spanning decades and finding proper nerds to play it with. I miss playing games but haven’t felt the same draw to poker and other gambling that I used to spend a lot of time on. Hearthstone is only just not boring enough to keep me coming back even though its gameplay nuance feels extremely limited. I’d love to get back into chess but I don’t feel like studying and I don’t like losing and not improving. So many hobbies are so inconvenient or something; I need a hobby that doesn’t become an obsession but is still fun enough to keep me motivated to repeat the behavior. I have been searching for this hobby for forever.

6:48 PM

Megan and I are simul-blogging right now. I can hear her typing, which sounds like mice scurrying down tunnels. She types really fast. I type much slower and make more mistakes, especially while my laptop is lagging because I am running too many programs at the same time. Currently, I type a whole sentence and then stop and wait and watch as it catches up. Computers age like milk.

7:34 PM

Thought about asking Megan “How many guesses would your dad need to guess a password that he knew was exactly four words long, if the correct answer was: ‘live long and fart’?” but decided to write it down for her instead. Now we are discussing what the question means and possible logical answers for the question.

7:39 PM

We are watching Million Dollar Listing New York on On Demand in the background while we both eat pizza and do computers and sometimes look over and smile at one another. Beavis is sleeping on Megan’s lap.

8:07 PM

While staring idly into the fridge, thought about how I wish I could watch a movie that is like a 3 hour version of the Alfred Molina scene in Boogie Nights. Now Megan says she wants to watch The Social Network again. We’re watching The Social Network again.

There’s something perverted about this movie. “Dating you is like dating a stairmaster,” the girl tells the Zuck character. The colors of the opening scene reminds me of the first piss you take after ejaculating. I can’t believe I’ve seen people brag on twitter about writing to The Social Network soundtrack.

8:16 PM

Zuck is inventing facesmash right now. I remember the hot or not page and looking at that on my 48k modem. Having to make everybody in the house get off the phone so you can get on the internet and send messages to people pretending to be other people, all of us jerking off. We haven’t even begun to imagine the effect of bullshit on children’s minds. We’re already too old to remember what it felt like to not see how small the world is.

I wish they had cast the real Zuck to play himself in this movie.

8:22 PM

I forgot that Zuck liveblogs while he’s inventing facesmash. Zuck is a liveblogging pioneer/icon. He’s also a lot more alt lit than Peter Thiel.

The Winklevosses just came on so I’m going to go outside.

Tried to give Megan a kiss before I go outside but she wouldn’t let me because she was dialed in liveblogging.

8:38 PM

Flash-imagined myself as Bart writing “I will not talk about crypto on this blog” on a blackboard in whatever font this is. Then typed, “Buy BTC,” then erased it.

9:04 PM

I don’t think they found a douchey enough actor to play the Winklevosses. They should have gotten the real Winklevosses, one realizes. David Fincher’s Dogme 95 cut. Wikipedia Films.

9:14 PM

By far JT’s best work. I almost seriously can’t believe he didn’t get nominated for an Oscar for this.

9:16 PM

I strongly feel Chamillionaire should have been offered a significant supporting role in this film.

9:21 PM

I find complex sentences innately more exciting than simple sentences.

9:25 PM

Hearing DKs on this soundtrack makes them sound like RHCP.

9:33 PM

Drinking water and watching the dog spazz out attacking the sofa.

9:46 PM

What if instead of THEfacebook.com he’d called it buttfuckers.fuck? WHAT THEN??

9:50 PM

Andrew Garfield seems like maybe he practiced too much for this role. I did like him in that Jim Bakker movie tho.

11:44 PM

Watching the new episode of The Curse. The only sane show on TV. The Emma Stone character reminds me of someone.

12:29 AM

Watching youtube video about the World Jigsaw Puzzle Championships.

1:28 AM

Watching Full Tilt Million Dollar Cash Game on “The Poker Vaults” on youtube until sleep.