So for the past month, I've been caught in a rather unhealthy cycle. I keep swinging between pseudo-deep musings you'd hear from your Aunt Mabel in Iowa like "life is too short to give your heart to someone who doesn't want it" and equally unhelpful but true thoughts like "she was cute, she wasn't afraid to sing Shawn Colvin songs in public and you actually sang in tune when you were around her, you were meant to be Ewan to her Nicole - way not to get her phone number jackass." Throw into this mix the fact I left an extremely well paying but extremely stressful professional gig to follow my muse, and am recently coming to grips with the fact that in the war between art and commerce, commerce pays a lot better while your muse tends to leave you at inopportune times (a gust of wind, an e-mail unreplied) and doesn't pay diddly, I'm not exactly the poster boy for stability right now. A couple of weeks ago, I read about blogging in Time and promptly forgot about it. Then, tonight, I was doing a random google search on Kids in the Hall, and after a few more random permutations, I read my first blog. What the hell, this is better than watching Everybody Loves Raymond reruns and wondering if I have an original voice or instead I'm just bogarting from Michael Marshall Smith, Jonathan Carroll and Nick Hornby. Now, here I am, hoping that somehow I manage to regain some equilibrium through this.

Quote I wish I wrote of the day: "Love and death are very similar, because they're the times in your life when you most want to believe in magic, when you yearn for some symbolic act or retrospective edit which can change the world you find yourself in." Hap from Michael Marshall Smith's One of Us.