Friday, December 16, 2005
Yet another bizarro Neil Gaiman coincidence, or, "that bitch, Robin Slick"
Yeah, that photo of Neil Gaiman definitely deserved to be reposted. Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas to me.
Nah, I have a reason for putting that pic back up which I'll mention at the end of today's entry. But who needs a reason? I'd make it my permanent screen saver but you know, that would make me weird. Ha, not really, it's more like I won't do it because it's already been done by an internationally respected, happily married female writer pal of mine who lifted it off my blog last week for that very purpose but then had to replace it with Calvin and Hobbs when her husband saw it. (Ha ha - hi there, anonymous writer pal -- don't worry, I won't out you and I agree, Calvin and Hobbs are way cool.)
Besides, I have the infamous one of Eddie Vedder's arm around me post-pizza dinner for my computer wallpaper.
Yes, I know. I'm not only weird, I'm pathetic, too. But hey, good on me, I have mastered the fountain pen! I love it! Oh, I could do a dissertation on flex nibs now. I let Julie write with it yesterday and she went crazy. It figures she'd get into that, too (nervously clutching my checkbook).
So I know I've talked about my friend, author Tom Saunders, and his wonderful short story collection, Brother, What Strange Place Is This? but today I simply must direct you to his blog, where he from time to time posts his short stories, poetry, and examples of his awesome photography. Up right now is a short story Tom wrote (dated December 1, 2005 in case he posts something new before you read this) called Delayed Action which just blew me away, and you can read that, and the rest of Tom's blog, right here.
Eric is at David Ivory's studio this morning laying down some more tracks and that's all I'm saying on that subject for now. He's a very smart, complex kid with tons of talent but he's got a lot of soul searching to do as concerns his future. Gary and I are doing our best to both gently guide him and let him work this out himself but oh my God, it's so hard not to interfere. I have to keep reminding myself that by the time we were his age, we were already out on our own and we've hopefully raised him to be an independent thinker. But in any event, I feel pretty confident he's going to be a big star and having grown up in the music business, I know it's a crap shoot and there's more than talent involved, but Eric's got it all going for him (including two parents who insist that he not take a full time job which would limit his ability to tour and gig so we continue to throw money at him so he can pursue the dream...and buy me a place in the UK when he makes it, ha ha).
Julie is happy as a clam having taken her last final yesterday and is officially on a three week winter semester break. She spent last night baking these truly obscene Christmas cookies while I hung out in the living room on the computer yelling stuff into the kitchen like "Are you making a mess in there?" just to aggravate her.
She made two types of cookies which she invented (yep, she does that and she's amazing) -- one which will make her famous if she ever decides to market them -- a lovely toasted coconut number topped with melted chocolate. The other "experiment", however, I have rather aptly named "booger cookies". Because you see she made lemon shortbread -- totally delicious - but we were out of confectioners sugar so she decided to use this green crystalized stuff we had in the house instead, which you sprinkle on Christmas cookies as decoration. But Julie being Julie had to take it a step further because I mentioned that I think confectioners sugar is merely regular granulated sugar that's been whipped, so she decided to stick it in the mixer and for some inexplicable reason, added a few drops of red food coloring. When she got a very unpleasant brown result (d'oh), she immediately added some more green, which rendered the sugar and food coloring into a thin, olive green liquid. She glazed the yellowish lemon cookies with them, and when I broke out into hysterical laughter and called them "booger cookies" she tried to make them prettier by adding chopped almonds on top.
Trust me, it did not make them look better -- more than ever the topping appears to be something you'd find in a disgusting, used hankie. But here's some advice if you come over the house today. Eat one anyway. They are awesome tasting -- just shut your eyes when you take one and don't think about it.
One final reminder -- please go see the Paul Green School of Rock Music tribute to the Beatles at Indre Studios - the shows are tonight and tomorrow night at 8:00 p.m. Details are in the post below. I will not be at tonight's show because I'm going to stay home and wrap presents (translation: stay home, get drunk, and fuck off at the computer) but I will be at tomorrow's performance for sure. Especially as I've been promised a midnight dinner out afterwards with Gary and the kids because both Julie and Eric are attending as well to support their dad. Gary and Nero have worked really hard on this show and are thrilled with the result, so I am really psyched for both of them and the set list is amazing. Okay, well, for me, there are only maybe five Beatle songs out of their whole catalogue which I don't like (can you say Octopus Garden or Maxwell's Silver Hammer?) but even the very worst Beatle song is still a million times better than Jesus Take the Wheel. Don't worry - I have not forgotten my plan to CRUSH THE JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL MOVEMENT and will probably go full steam ahead with that project next week.
Or not. Depends on how much last minute Christmas shopping I need to do. But in that case, the week after for sure!!!
Anyway, here's the Gaiman bit I was talking about. Because I am (a) an egomaniac or (b) an insecure, paranoid individual starved for attention/affection, or, if I want to be completely honest, I am both (a) and (b), I google myself to see what's up in my world that I might not know about and now I've found a new and better toy, google blog search. Or just plain blog search, or icerocket blog search. Lots of fun, that. You can type in your name and find out who is talking about you in their on line diaries. So imagine my shock to see an entry a couple of days ago that said in its title "That bitch Robin Slick!".
I'm a bitch? I am not! Crazy, yes, a big overgrown kid, for sure...but a bitch? Oh man, you should have seen me when I first read that. I went white; my stomach fell...I was fucking terrified. What did I do now? But despite feeling like I was going to vomit from anxiety, I couldn't help myself, I clicked on the link, and it took me to a woman's blog...a woman who calls herself "Liarbyrd" I do not know but who also lives in Philadelphia and also did NaNo (National Novel Writing Month) last month. Apparently, she blogged her novel...and one of her characters was "Robin Slick, an aging groupie". Err...it was kind of hard not to take that personally and get all, well, uber paranoid, but rather than get upset, I decided to be flattered instead. Anyway, I go to her blogger profile page and see her favorite writer is Neil Gaiman. Too funny. Anyway, I checked her out further; didn't read anything which would indicate she's a lunatic or had any personal vendettas against me, so I moved on and went back to working on my current book. End of story, right?
Nope, not in my world. Cos' yesterday I couldn't resist it -- I blog searched her again to see what other names she's called me in her NaNo novel and what other adventures my aging groupie character got into, and I almost fucking fainted when I saw a post titled Neil Gaiman Answered My Annoying E-Mail. So you know I had to immediately click on it, and ha ha, as you will see, she did write to him and was lucky enough to have her letter posted and commented on in his blog (which I'd even read a few days ago), but she neglected to sign her name. So she gets the great man's attention, but anonymously! Oh man, that is so something I would do, maybe I can't be angry at Liarbyrd whoever she is after all.
And of course you know I could not resist leaving her a little note on her blog to the effect of Nah nah nah, Neil Gaiman may have published your post in his blog but he came and visited mine and left a comment.
But how weird. Here's this woman from my same city -- I don't know her and let me tell you, the writing community in Philadelphia is SMALL and we all know each other -- she just happens to love Gaiman (okay, we all love Neil so that's not too much of a coincidence), but in one week, I find out she's writing a book with my name in it, Gaiman comments in my blog, and answers a post she writes to him in his blog.
Coincidence? I think not!
Man, life is strange. Oh well. Go see the Beatle show at Indre tonight. Or tomorrow, and come up to me and say hi. I'll even give you some cookies...