Save Me!

It is almost 3 in the morning, and I'm still up grading really bad first draft of short stories from my students. Eh, they're not all bad, but most are.

What is keeping me sane is to take breaks between every couple of stories. And you know what I do during these quick breaks? I look at internet porn. They don't even turn me on, but I look at them anyways. They help distract me.

Back in B-ton

I have way too much work to catch up on. I need to grade my class' final, their first short story drafts, prepare a draft of a story of mine for workshop finish my professor's book, and read 90+ pages of my peers' fiction for workshop tomorrow. Dammit.

Hope everyone had a great holiday.

Please enjoy this:

Elkhart woman charged with killing her 4 children
Prosecutor says he might seek the death penalty
By Tom Coyne | Associated Press | Monday, November 27, 2006

Elkhart County court security officer Mike Cain, left, and Elkhart County Corrections officer Cpl. David Kerk, rear, escort Angelica Alvarez from the Elkhart County Courthouse following her initial hearing Wednesday in Goshen, Ind. Alvarez was charged wit

ELKHART, Ind. -- A prosecutor is considering seeking the death penalty against a mother charged with strangling her four young children.

Angelica Alvarez, 27, of Elkhart, was ordered to be jailed without bond on four counts of murder during a court hearing held Wednesday just hours after she was released from Elkhart General Hospital. She had been in the hospital since being found unconscious with a faint pulse Nov. 14 next to the bodies of her children, ages 2 to 8.

Elkhart County Prosecutor Curtis Hall called the case one of the worst he could recall because four children from the same family were killed.

"That is particularly troubling, and I think a circumstance of this nature requires an appropriate response," he said.

Authorities allege that Alvarez strangled her children, Jennifer Lopez, 8, Gonzalo Lopez, 6, Daniel Valdez, 4, and Jessica Valdez, 2. Fernando Valdez, the father of the two youngest and Alvarez's husband, came home from work and found their bodies in the basement of their home in Elkhart, 15 miles east of South Bend. The charges came a day after 300 people attended the children's funeral.

Hill would not give specifics on how the children were killed and does not know whether investigators have a theory on motive, saying Indiana law does not require it to try the case.

"I don't think there's anybody on this earth that can suggest to me a reason for killing children. So I'm not too concerned about what motive might be there," he said at a news conference.

Hill said he would not describe the case as a murder-suicide attempt.

"I would not consider this as anything other than a murder at this time," he said.

Elkhart Circuit Judge Terry Shewmaker ordered Alvarez be jailed without bond and that she be examined to make sure she is competent to stand trial. Hill said earlier he had no reason to believe she wasn't.

Gonzalo Lopez, father of the two oldest children, has said Alvarez was depressed after losing her job and had been hospitalized for 12 days. Officials at Norco Industries, where Alvarez had worked as a housekeeper for three years, said she quit in mid-September.

Lopez earlier told the South Bend Tribune that he met Alvarez in Mexico and that they lived in Lazaro Cardenas, a port city in the state of Michoacan. A decade ago, Lopez and Alvarez moved to Goshen, Ind., a town near Elkhart, where Lopez had family.

Shewmaker asked Alvarez through a translator Wednesday at the courthouse in Goshen whether she was in the country legally. She said no. A pretrial hearing was scheduled for Dec. 21.

Hill said the Mexican consulate has been in touch with his office about Alvarez and said U.S. immigration officials also have inquired about the case. He said her citizenship status was not a concern.

"I don't think that really matters," he said. "I don't care if she is an American citizen; I don't care if she's a Mexican national; I don't much care if she is from the planet Mars. When you commit a murder of a child in Elkhart County, you will commit a steep price."

The Monday before Thanksgiving

I gave an exam today, and unfortunately all 14 of my students were there to take it. Parts of me wished that I would have less timed essays that I'd have to read and grade over the break -- but no. Dammit.

I went to the gym, and when I was done I had an intense crazy for mid-western trashy food. So I went to the brewery and had a breaded pork loin sandwich and beer. I've been drinking more beer here than I've ever had in my life, so I guess I should be happy that I'm absorbing this midwestern chic. My friend Randy had promised he'd take me to go shooting after I get back from SF and before I leave for the winter break. WooHoo: Gun-tottin'!

I've watched a few episodes of Heroes on NBC, and for some reason I'm finding myself drawn to the actor Masi Oka who plays Hiro Nakamura on the show. His character can bend space and time when he makes this severely constipated face. I don't know why (aside from that he's a regular Asian character on a scripted prime-time television show that doesn't look like an alien like Daniel Dae Kim). I guess there's something about bloated chinky heads that I find endearing -- much like a lot of laughing buddha headed men I've found myself attracted to for some strange reason: David, my hot Korean doctor, my ex, etc. Masi was on Conan tonight, and sounds really cute when he speaks unaccented English.

Guns, Pho, and more trashy news

More Klan stuff in the local news. Martinsville, the next town over, is 15 minutes from Bloomington, and is rumored to be 70-something% Klan affiliated. It doesn't mean 70% of everyone is a Klan member, but that people are somehow related to or have some ties to Indiana Klan history/diaspora. I don't know how credible this statistic is. Either way, they got this in the news.

Oh, what the hell: All these news stories are worth reading!

I went up to Indianapolis last night to go out for the first time in ages. My friend Gerald took us to this club called Talbott Street. Being there reminded me of a question I have never learned the answer to: Why the hell do gay men love shitty, shitty house music? I have to admit that the space itself was nice though.

I hadn't been to Indianapolis in almost a month. I spent pretty much all of October going up to Indy every Sunday just to eat Vietnamese food. Bloomington doesn't have a single Vietnamese restaurant, and the withdrawal symtoms do get really difficult. Like San Jose, a lot of the Vietnamese businesses in Indy are in the same area with the Mexican businesses. It reminds me of Tully Road: taquerias next to pho shops, panderias sandwiching the Vietnamese market. It's nice to see some consistent ghettoing. All this is set up in the business district that also has a Dan's Gun Shop where, according to their church bulletin-like sign on the street, they "rent guns" and pay "cash for your firearms." And if you have a problem with that, their sign already has a rebuttal ready: "I DON'T MAKE THE RULES, I JUST FOLLOW THEM"

It's freezing, and parts of me are shrinking because of the weather

I realize now that when the snow falls, possibly soon, I will probably need to start taking the bus and cool off on the scooter. The chill is even cutting through my shoes and I can't feel my toes. There is a bus that stops right in front of my apartment, and can take me as far as the Sam's Club and Super Wal-mart! However, the buses here are not all too desireable (i.e. They suck because the only come once every hour, and stop running past 8:30pm -- and I have a class that gets out at 9pm).

I went to the Super Wal-mart (I know, I'm evil -- but I'm broke and desperately needed more socks). In the parking lot I saw a car with a Confederate Flag sticker on their bumper. Which was okay, because parked next to it I saw a huge pickup with a "Klan Knight" sticker in their back window. It should be noted that this Super Wal-mart is on the west-west side of Bloomington and is nowhere near campus, let alone my place.

Bloomington is, I do believe, the most liberal place in all of Indiana. We have the 5th highest concentration of same-sex couple in all the United States. The other week, during the mid-term elections, the Republican campaigners were sent into B-ton to swarm and rally and convince folks to vote Red. And they were obviously successful -- HOORAY FOR THEM!

There is a small cooking supply store along the main shopping strip of downtown, a couple blocks from the campus' main gate. It's called The Inner Chef and is gay-owned and happens to have a rainbow design as part of their logo/sign. My friend Tracy told me that a couple years ago Fred Phelps (the reverend who protested Matthew Shepard's funeral, and looks like Senator Palpatine from Star Wars) came to Bloomington to protest The Inner Chef. So sad. He went from protesting things like the memorial service for a gay man whose murder rocked the country, to holding up signs in front of a shop that sells knives and pans. In a small town. Of Indiana.

In the news: I'm thinking of changing the subtitle of this blog to "Small college town with big city trash."

Bloomington woman stabbed in fight
Alleged assailant faces preliminary felony charges
By Michael Reschke | Indiana Daily Student | Wednesday, November 15, 2006

A Bloomington woman stabbed another woman in a fight about a man Monday, police said.

Monday night, Bloomington Police Department officer Dana Runnebohm was called to the Bloomington Hospital's emergency room to talk to a woman with a stab wound, BPD Detective Sgt. David Drake said, reading from a police report.

The woman, 23, said her attacker, Latrice Greer, 28, called her while she was outside of her apartment in the 500 block of South Basswood Drive, Drake said. Greer told the woman she was outside of her apartment and that she had something for her, Drake said, reading from the report. The woman told police she did not want any problems inside her apartment, so she went outside, Drake said. Once outside, Greer walked toward the woman and swung at her with something in her hand. The woman put up her left forearm to block and said she then felt a great deal of pain and began to bleed severely from her forearm, Drake said.

Greer then swore at the woman and got into her car and left. The woman called a friend to take her to the hospital and was treated at Bloomington Hospital for a deep laceration several inches in length on the underside of her left forearm, Drake said. She suffered extensive muscle and tendon damage that will require surgery, he said.

Later that day, officers found Greer at her residence, Drake said. Greer said she had not been to the victim's apartment that day, he said. She said she was with someone else who could verify her whereabouts. Greer gave officers the name and number of her alibi, but when officers called the number she gave them, that person denied seeing Greer that day, Drake said.

Greer was arrested on the preliminary charge of battery with a deadly weapon, a Class C felony, he said.

In the news

My next project will be to write tales based on these types of small college town news stories. How sad is it, to be that young and acting up that bad and causing building structure to fall apart. ::sigh:: Why, oh why did I never have such a freshman college experience? My favorite feature is how cute the report is: the vagueness of the offenses, so pias. She "made vulgar statements" and "stuck her middle finger at them".

Student attempts escape from hospital
Freshman had .30 BAC, arrested on multiple charges
By Kristi Oloffson | Indiana Daily Student | Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The IU Police Department arrested an intoxicated female student Saturday morning after she attempted to escape through a bathroom ceiling in Bloomington Hospital, according to an IUPD report. The student was transported there after police responded to a call that she was unconscious in a Briscoe Quad dorm room from overconsumption of alcohol, said IUPD Capt. Jerry Minger, reading from the report.

The freshman, a 19-year-old resident of McNutt-Delgado, began vomiting before the ambulance arrived to take her to the hospital, Minger said.

Her blood alcohol content was above 0.30, he said. Her BAC was taken at the hospital, said IUPD Sgt. Don Schmuhl.

The woman "became belligerent by being loud and cursing at the EMTs," when they arrived at the emergency room of the hospital, Minger said, reading from the report.

The emergency room personnel allowed the woman to use the restroom, and an ER technician waited outside the door for her, Minger said. When she did not come out or respond to knocking, the technician entered the room to find the woman making an attempt to climb into the ceiling, he said.

The ceiling hangers, which hold the ceiling tiles in place, then collapsed, causing half of the bathroom ceiling to fall in on the technician and the woman, Minger said. The student then began cursing and made vulgar statements to the hospital staff and stuck out her middle finger at them, Minger said. The estimated damage to the room was several hundred dollars but no one was injured in the fall, he said.

After the woman was treated and released, police told her she was under arrest for illegal consumption and criminal mischief, Minger said. She was transported to Monroe County jail where she was released Saturday afternoon upon her own recognizance, said officer Jeremy Sender of the Monroe County jail.

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I'd like it if the woman above was the one who caused this, but... I guess even Asian people in the Mid-West can't drive either. (But then again, Kilroy's is such a frat-boy-ish hangout -- I've seen screaming drunken men standing at the entrance, fondling their girlfriends' breasts, and yelling obnoxiously at passing cars -- I'm not convinced this was not divine intervention.)


Student struck by automobile outside Kilroy's Sports Bar

By Michael Reschke | Indiana Daily Student | Monday, November 13, 2006

An IU student was injured after being struck by an automobile near Kilroy's Sports Bar early Saturday morning.

As of Sunday afternoon, Jina Yang, 21, a resident of the Gamma Phi Beta sorority, had been released from Bloomington Hospital after being treated for injuries from the accident.

At about 2:50 a.m. Saturday, Yang and another pedestrian were crossing North Walnut Street. The other pedestrian jogged and made it across the street, but Yang walked directly in front of a vehicle that was heading north in the right lane, said Bloomington Police Department Lt. Janelle Benedict, reading from a police report. The driver of the vehicle, Emily Young, 20, said she slammed on her brakes in an attempt to avoid hitting Yang.

Yang was lying on the pavement and appeared to be bleeding from the head when officers arrived, Benedict said. She was treated at the scene and taken to Bloomington Hospital for further treatment.

Young was arrested on preliminary charges of operating a vehicle while intoxicated, causing serious bodily injury, a class D felony, and illegal consumption, a class C misdemeanor.

The Craigslist posting I put up during halloween

TOP WANTED - 27 (Mission District)

Bottom for SERIOUS ONLY agressive top.

I just finished passing out treats, and am ready for your sugar daddy up my candy bag. Saw some hot sailor costumes. But the masked ones like Skeletor and Pinhead got me thinkin -- I WANNA GET FUCKED BY MASKED STRANGER!

Mask up, come into my room. I'll be lubed up, on my bed, ass up, and you make like The Dinosaur or Death or whatever you've got covering that fugly mug of yours and take me like a bitch. Staying in character is plus: Dinosaur face? I want roaring. Jason Vorhees hockey mask? Do that chh-chh-chh-cha-cha-cha while you pound my hot hole.

Built 5'11", buzzed brown, green eyes, with nice round ass, ready and willing. Your pic gets mine. Masked with bod pic nice, but not a must."


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I got one victim. I'll post up our interactions another time.

When Pizza Delivery Drivers' Attackers Attack

I had pizza with my friend Randy last night, and when the delivery boy/young man brought the goods, attached to the pizza box was a xeroxed strip of this Indiana Daily Student article.

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Delivery driver assaulted, breaks 2 bones in leg
By Kristi Oloffson Monday, November 06, 2006

This is a composite picture of the suspect in the assault of the Aver’s pizza delivery driver that occurred Thursday night.

IU police are investigating the assault of an Aver's Gourmet Pizza delivery driver that occurred Thursday night at the Herman B Wells library, said IU Police Department Capt. Jerry Minger, reading from the police report. No arrests have been made at this time, Minger said.

A passer-by called the police and officers arrived to find the driver lying in the parking lot behind the library, complaining of pain in his right leg, Minger said. The driver told police that after he delivered a pizza, he returned to his car to find a man sitting in the passenger seat whom he did not know, Minger said. After the driver told the man to get out of the car, the man in the car began to "intimidate the victim with profane language," according to an IUPD press release.

A second and third man also approached separately, both shouting profanities at the driver and challenging him, Minger said. After the "verbal altercation" had passed, the three began to walk away, but the driver said something to the three suspects, who all appeared to know one another, Minger said.

At that time the first suspect turned around, thrust an ID at the driver and said that he had just returned from Iraq, Minger said. The second suspect then hit the driver in the face near his jaw, causing him to fall backward on his right ankle, Minger said.

The driver was transported to Bloomington Hospital, where doctors said he broke two bones in his leg and had to undergo surgery to correct the injury, Minger said.

Police are still putting together composite images of the three suspects, who were seen running toward Jordan Avenue from the library, Minger said.

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I'd like to think: Only in Bloomington.

Doesn't the sketch look like Corey Feldman? What the hell was he doing in Iraq? And hanging out with two thugs? And wearing that ugly beanie?

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For all my East Bay folks, consider the possibilities of this phrase existing back home: Oakland City University. It's real and here, right here, in Indiana, and more than likely filled with white people.

SHAMELESS SELF-PROMO

A new story of mine is in the new issue of Watchword that just came out. You know you want it!

CLICK HERE

If you help support this beautiful effort in Bay Area based small press, me love you long time. In this issue, you'll also find a story by Dustin Heron whose new book Paradise Stories will be coming out in January .

I made pasta for dinner

And it reminded me of how, at SFSU, there was this crappy pizza place downstairs in the Student Union. And they served pasta. They served "Lasagna."

It was really a bunch of mystery pasta made to look like a lasanga brick. Imagine a heat pan at the cafeteria, you walk up and when you order, the woman dips her spatual into the heat pan. At the top of this steel pan is a layer of mozzarella cheese, red sauce, and the obvious flat lasagna noodle. The lady cuts you a square of the thing, and when you get your plate, instead of earth-crust-like-layers-of-alternating-sauce-and-cheese-and-flat-noodle, repeat... Instead of all that, it's just a penne and sauce. Or linguine and sauce. Or corkscrew pasta and sauce.

They just stuff the inside of the lasagna with yesterday's left over pasta.

Nothing quite like it.

This posting has absolutely nothing to do with anything. Thanks to Denay's banana-nut bread. I'm beginning to understand why people don't read people's blogs. For the most part, blogs are just just mental masturbation. But in this case, not even I seem to be getting off.

Swept Away is playing on VH1 as I type this

Yesterday was my friend Chad's birthday, and we celebrated at a Bloomington staple: this brewery that has the only beer I whole-hearted love, Upland.

Before that, I went to the Asian Cultural Center to sit in on a talk panel about Trans-racial/Trans-national adoption. I've always had mixed feelings about this topic Afterall, I (along with everyone who I've ever talked to about this) have never seen a single Asian American adoptee that was... oh dear, this is so insensitive to say, but... we have never seen a single SANE Asian American adoptee. Particularly the Korean ones. In the words of a friend of mine, who shall remain nameless (but let me assure you, the surname is Kim): "God, all [Korean adoptees] are fucked up."

I watched the panel of mothers talk about their experiences adopting and raising children from China, and the PI. And to be honest, I'm having trouble processing all the info. So, I better stop now and let it ferment for a little bit. (More on this another time.)

This weekend I will be going to the Indianapolis Queer Film Fest, which looks to be interesting with RuPaul in the musical Zombie Prom. I saw a documentary about Zombies during Halloween week (did I mention that?)

There's not much to report except one good news: I won IU's nomination to the Association of Writers & Writing Program's Intro Award for fiction. It is for the latest draft of my story "Forgetful" -- a piece about a guy who experiences being a Fob in reverse chronological order (in other words, instead of being a Fob who becomes "American," he grows up in America only to suddenly lose his ability to speak English). The story was selected by a judge outside the university: Michael Martone, who is a dazzling and hilarious writer, and I am grateful and honored he chose my story.

So, now IU is sending my story to compete at the national level with the AWP, where I will get my ass kicked and not win the possible publication in some literary journal, and where I will get my ass kicked and not win that money (which is $50, mind you). Wish me luck!

The other week, I went to a Goodwill in Indianapolis and bought a bunch of old records to decorate my living room

I just pinned them to the top of the wall, where it meets the ceiling. So far, I have the following:

• Sissy Spacek (of Carrie fame) -- Hangin' Up My Heart
• Linda Ronstandt -- Living in the USA
• Paula Abdul -- Forever Your Girl
• The Cars -- Candy-O
  
• Michael Jackson -- Thriller
• Janet Jackson -- Control
• Culture Club -- Kissing to be Clever
• Go-Go's -- Beauty and the Beat
• Strawberry Shortcake -- Live
• Tina Turner -- Break Every Rule
• Bette Midler -- The Rose soundtrack
  

Slip n' Slide

It started raining again tonight, when I was in the middle of my pedagogy class. I dread the rain now, having almost died a couple weeks ago.

No hyperbole: I was almost roadkill a couple weeks ago, on the evening of Monday October 9. This is what you miss when I don't update my blog.

It was dark when class let out then. And the rain was pouring like the end of the world. I mean puddles in the sidewalk give pedestrians the splash treatment when cars fly by. I had taken my helmet with me indoors and, like an ass, I left it in the English grad student mailbox room. When I got out of my pedagogy class, I realized I was not longer holding my helmet and with all the major rooms closed, I would have to ride home in the rain without it.

And then Murphy's Law.

I was being cautious -- driving slow and steady on the slick road. And at High Street and Hillside, only two blocks from my apartment's block, two cars in front of me break suddenly. They weren't even 100 yards away. I break. Hard. Too hard. And my back wheel fish-tails foward, and I'm now facing my right side, the sidewalk. The bike collapses and the shield that covers the driver's legs in the front of the scooter, I can hear it gritting against the paved pebbles of the road. I squeeze the handles because I'm afraid that if I don't I might fly off and tumble into the trees on the side of the street. Because if I didn't hang on, I'd grind my helmet-less skull against pavement like a block of cheese on a steel grater.

It happened so fast that I only remember noticing two things:

1. That my right palm does graze the road as I slide my 50-odd yards
2. That the right side of my body does touch the ground, with my black shoulder bag on my back cushioning my ass
   

Then I smash into the car in front of me, a green Nissan that broke for the car in front of it -- my front wheel lodged under his bumper. I am soaked in gray gutter water. My right sweater sleeve, my right pant leg down into my socks and the inside of my shoe -- all heavy now with water. And it's still raining hard as I stumble to stand up, dazed. I go up to the passenger window of the car I smashed into and he asks if I'm okay and I say yes even though I can't feel my right hand. I clutch the wrist and notice that I only have a small dot in the left bottom of my palm and realized how lucky I was to just be in one piece.

It was like that kid's game from the late 80's or early 90's: where you attach a yellow vinyl carpet to the water hose and fly down the thing with your friends. Slip n' Slide, I think it was called. I think the jingle sang You run...you slide...you hit the bump and then you dive!

Because I was too confused to know what to do with myself and the situation, I told the driver he could leave. He never once stepped out of the car. When he took off, shattered red plastic from the fender of my front-wheel cover were splayed on the ground like jig-saw puzzle pieces. A red pick-up pulled over and a nice couple offered to take me home. All I could do was say, "Oh, it's okay. I don't want to get your car wet." over and over again, clutching that numb right hand. I made myself close and open it, to make sure it wasn't dead. The couple loaded my bike into their trunk against my protest and ushered me into the front seat, where I just repeated "I don't want to get your car wet."

When I got home, I showered, looking pathetic as I sat on the tub floor holding my knees in and let the hot water heat my cold skin. I must have looked like those rape victims you always see in made-for-TV movies, or at least that guy in "The Crying Game".

My right side had a purple elongated shape of Japan running up and down for over a week. Too bad David wasn't with me, because I would have gone around showing off my bruise, saying he did it to me. I'd tell people, "He didn't mean to do it...He's just been a little stressed lately."

Or, "I know he loves me. He said he was sorry. This is how I know he loves me."

Or, "Please don't tell anyone. I did kinda deserve it."

Then I'd go home, turn my head so I can see the bruise in the mirror, and play the crying game.

Roadkill

I will have pictures to come of a lot of things. From my scooter, to the lovely weather and fallen leaves, to (yes!) roadkill. (For some reason, my flashcard reader won't work right now, so the digi pics are waiting.)

We have soooo much roadkill here in Bloomington. It's as if the animals have all contracted the same sense of suicidal tendency. I go to the gym -- less than 2 miles from my apartment -- and my scooter has to dodge splayed open raccoons, tired-tread-imprinted squirrels, and a number of other furry creatures I can't recognize because I'm going too fast to stop and take a closer look, because if I do stop and take a closer look the people driving behind me will think I'm crazy (either that, or I'm trying to peel me my dinner off of this here street). I counted 4 pavement patties last time I went to the gym.

The squirrels here, I must also remark, are huge. They're fat and juicy looking, and I want to poke one, if only I could get close enough.

I've been working on my southern accent. People in Southern Indiana have accents, which I find absolutely adorable. Hoosier Hick Chic, I want to call it.

Adding to the chic is my recent discover to two Indiana natives...

• Orville Redenbacher: the popcorn man
• Colonel (Hardland David) Sanders: Kentucky Friend Chicken, whose animated corpse gets paraded around in KFC commercials now -- Have they no respect for the dead?!

Last night I watched a documentary on the History Channel, "The Secret History of the Ku Klux Klan." There was a whole segment about Indiana being the biggest Klan state for a while. Home, sweet home. This hooded appetizer got me ready for my next documentary, on the Food Network, about Colonel Sanders and KFC. "Finger-lickin' good!"

Right now, I'm avoiding grading my student's papers and finishing that book I need to give a report on tomorrow for my Pedagogy class. Instead, I'm watching "No One Would Tell" on Lifetime, where Fred Savage (The Wonder Years) plays an obsessive and abusive boyfriend who kills DJ Tanner/Candace Cameron (Full House). Sally Jessy Raphael has a cameo as the judge at Fred Savage's trial. The most disturbing part is Candace Cameron has my sister Nancy's haircut in this movie.

Oh DJ Tanner.

Before this, Lifetime was playing "The Stranger Beside Me" -- where Kelly Kapowski of Bayside High School is newly wed not to Zack Morris, but to a rapist who terrorizes the neighborhood they move into.

Damn, I wish I could write this stuff. Forget the MFA degree, I want to just develop made-for-TV movies and teen dramas. And every single story will include a character who says, with spite, to her best friend, "What's wrong [insert name]? Didn't he respect you in the morning?"

Hot Buttered Rum!

First off: my apologies for not updating this damn thing since September. It's been a rough mid-term, trying to balance writing, teaching, and classes all at once. But luckily, I read The Sound of Paper by Julia Cameron, a wonderful book about finding balance with your writing and it's given me a second wind. I will be trying to apply the writerly things it's taught me, and this blog will be slowly filling you in on the past few weeks, and my current Klandyland life...

So, it's fall and the weather, on a good day, is dark and cloudy like in SF, and on bad days, is raining and miserable. The leaves have turned.

I'm watching Intereview With a Vampire, again, for the 5th time since I've moved here. The movie -- the greatest vampire porno ever told -- is constantly on one of the Showtime channels. I've watched Queen of the Damned a bunch of times too in the last couple months -- and that's even funnier because it was meant to go straight to video/dvd (possibly with the Special Feature section having the audio of the black box from Aaliyah's plane). But because Aaliyah died, FOX thought they'd make more money off of a dead body, so it was released to theatres with its horrible CG and MTV soundtrack and bad acting (e.g. the scene where she fucks Stuart Townsend in a bathtub...filled with rose peddles...and they bite each other).

It all reminds me of the new Nora Robert's novel Denay is reading: "Dance of the Gods" -- the second installment in Nora Robert's trilogy modern day vampire romance/porno. The best line in that book is, "He pulled her loose pants from her hips, and there was nothing beneath them but woman, hot and wet. Hotter and wetter when his fingers found her."

Earlier, when I was reading submissions to the Indiana Review, a blocked number called me and I picked up thinking it would be Denay and instead it was Bill Clinton. "Hello. I'm Bill Clinton and I'm calling for your support of Lt. Governor John..." I normally hang up when I get these messages, but it was Bill Clinton and even though he said, straight-up, it was a pre-recorded message and even though it was impersonal, I actually listened to the whole thing, sitting on my second-hand couch which is covered with a bed sheet to mask the suspicious stains. For some reason, hearing his voice directed towards me made it feel like he was actually speaking to...Me! God I'm lonely.

My friend Jeff and I talked about how now that it's so cold (Bloomington drops into the 30's and 40's in the evenings), the saddest thing is to not have someone to cuddle up with in the chill. Then, for reasons I cannot remember, we started talking about office sex and how hasn't done it in the United States.

But maybe I have.

Maybe.

All you people at HIFY: I'll let you consider the possibilities of that for a minute, let that paranoia of Did He or Didn't He? set it -- let that paranoia drive you to sterilize your desks with the vinegar spray beneath the kitchen sink. Because: Remember that awful Shaggy song "It Wasn't Me"? How he had sex with the woman on the coffee table, and then the microwave, and then the doggy bed, and then the air-conditioner hanging from the window, and then the stroke-paralyzed mother in the living room, etc.? Well, if I were to have office sex (or, maybe, when I had office sex) it would be all up on everyone's business.

You're Welcomed.

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Yesterday, I went to a cocktail party for my program and the host and hostess had a full bar, along with -- brewing in the kitchen -- Hot Buttered Rum. I had never had such a thing and when they served me some, the melted butter floated above the mix of warm cider and rum and cloves. It was fattening and congealing on my lips, that butter. It reminded me of Wisconsin's Butter Burgers. I told a few people what a Butter Burger is. We sipped our Hot Buttered Rum, standing next to the hostess as she made more -- dressed classy in her red, high-waisted dress, at the stove and emptying a whole bottle of rum into the pot (looking like Faye Dunnaway in Mommy Dearest). And they gagged at the idea of a butter burger, meat patty fried with butter, buns slathered in butter, and served up hot with a pad of butter melting on the meat for that extra butterness.

I've never eaten one myself, but the opportunity might be realized. They have a few Culver's here in Indiana. Culver's: the Wisconsin chain. Culver's: Frozen Custard & Butter Burgers. A heart attack, waiting to happen. A place, I'm sure, that if you eat at often enough to look like zachhart12 on gay.com.

I was chatting online again the other day, and out of nowhere, because we were both in the Bloomington chatroom, he messaged me just to say this:



Nevermind that he got the ethnic slur in the wrong direction. He spelled it incorrectly, that Crakre.

"Spic asian"? Maybe he has mild Dyslexia and meant "Spice asian" -- as in, he mistook me for one of the Spice Girls, the one who will replace Ginger Spice for the reunion tour: ASIAN SPICE!

Not White Power -- GIRL POWER!