monkey mind

I meditated today. First time since Paris. What was that, March? Thoughts of C came up - the reason for quitting (or one of the reasons) - but it was a short sit, 15 minutes, and I think I need it.

Since I finished the novel, I've been wandering around feeling like a newly retired old man. And yesterday I felt kind of down. I don't know if that's the depression a couple of people have asked me if I've been experiencing because of the completion of the book.

I don't really feel complete. I guess I'm a little anxious about the next part. There's a lot of rejection to ready myself for. I had this idea yesterday that I should just self-publish the book and not worry about working so hard to get a publisher interested in the work. But I told S and he seemed to think it an odd choice. He said I would have to do the "business" side of it (the part I told him I wanted to avoid) if I self-published in order to get people to know about the book. My point was I didn't care. I spent four years writing the book, not thinking about publishing deals, not thinking about the what-ifs of fame and fortune. And I don't really feel like getting into that world now.

But I guess I really don't want to just put it in the closet and forget about it. I don't guess. Part of me does. Another part of me really just wants people to read it. That was the reason for the idea of self-publishing. Spend my own money, set my own price; give it to people to read, just to get them to read it. If something happens with it in some big way (the odds are against it), so be it, it'll be there anyway.

There's also the idea of some publisher coming along and saying they like it and then telling me I have to change this, that and everything else. I guess if it came with a big check (or even a medium one) and I didn't have to do my regular job for a while, and I could just go off to some cabin somewhere, or a studio apartment in a big city somewhere, it wouldn't be so bad. But I've opened myself up to S and M (no pun intended), two good friends who are the first readers with a critical eye. And no money involved. So here goes.

I've been uploading chapters onto my august chagrin blog, which feels good. And I've been putzing with the blog page (adding books that I read while writing the novel and/or books that are mentioned in the chapters; adding a section of links to songs, sort of a soundtrack to the story, if you will). That's what feels a lot like being retired, all this putzing.

I haven't been sleeping well. Or I should say I sleep okay, but I have a hard time getting to sleep nights. I've been staying up until 2:3o, 3:00, even later some nights. I'm exhausted, but then I lie down and all the thoughts kick in. It's only been a week. I guess I need some time to enjoy the achievement. S is in his last week of school, so I feel like I'm all alone waiting for him to have his achievement so we can celebrate together.

I rearranged my bedroom a little bit. That seemed like a good thing to do. I moved the desk from right beside the bed to the opposite wall, and pulled the meditation cushion out of the closet and put it there so I could stumble to it first thing in the morning and/or perhaps last thing of the day. I did that Tuesday morning, and this morning, I finally sat on the cushion and did a little meditation.

monday, december 20th (2004)

9:23 a.m.

I took R to the airport at 7 a.m. yesterday then came home, watched a little TV (I don't know why), made a grocery list for six kinds of soup(!) and the basics, watched a movie (Kinsey... eh!), went back to Wild Oats and got a back massage (ah!!!), came home and had a Southern Comfort eggnog and started cooking.

I couldn't find a couple of items I needed at Wild Oats and I forgot one or two others, so I could only make two of the soups (probably a good thing) - S said I made him think of Sally Field on ER because I'd been so depressed recently and then called him and said, "I'm gonna five soups! No, six!!!"

I made Hungarian Vegetable Guylas and Mashed Potato Soup. Both yummy. I have yet to make Annabella's Oatmeal Soup (a Mexican, not-sweet soup), Marseilles Spinach stew, Hot Borscht, and Leek and Cheddar Soup. Oh, and Tofu "Chicken" Salad.

I'm actively saving money - even though I spent most of my housecleaning money and the bonus yesterday.

I talked to S on the phone a while, and then my mom called, and later, Su. Although my mom didn't have any praise for Life in a Box ("It certainly wasn't what I expected it to be..."), that wasn't the reason she hasn't called. She put in her resignation at school around Thanksgiving - the last time I heard from her - and her last day of work was last Friday, and between those two dates she's "just been trying to get to the end."

She retired once before and went back to it (she got bored), but this time she said it's for real. She got tired of the kids not listening to her. She said, "When I say, 'Shut up and sit down,' I expect them to shut up and sit down!"

saturday, december 18th (2004)

9:09 p.m.

My back is killing me, and I don't think it's mostly from 8 hours of meditation, yoga and chanting. It was mostly sitting - and then walking - meditation, and we took several breaks, but still, it was a lot of Shambhala and it was great.

I'm in bed. I was thinking I was gonna write a whimsical schedule for myself to get into while R is gone, or write a short story about the swinging wall at Plowhaus last night (art exhibit), but I'm too tired.

I've seen a couple of good movies lately, though, that I want to remember:

• The Five Senses, starring Mary-Louise Parker, and tonight
• Bread & Tulips, an Italian film about a bored housewife
  

oh, good lord!

oh, shit! I wrote a book! I've been stumbling around all day in a stupor. I was up until 3:00 AM and got up around 11. I went to the blue star for the best pancakes in town and to do a second draft of the epilogue.

I also had "cheese grits." they used to be really good, really cheesy, kind of down home cheesy, and today they tasted like garlic and salt. not altogether bad, but it's 8:00 PM and I'm still thirsty.

I didn't work on the epilogue. I read through the versions I have (so I guess that's considered work), but the people around me were more interesting, and I was too interesting to them, sitting there looking the way I do (somewhat shabby compared to the others), so I ate and listened, and looked.

maybe I'm just being paranoid, maybe they weren't looking at me at all. I guess I feel like they should be looking at me, 'cause I wrote a fucking novel!

I threfted {sic}, found a cool cap and another pair of khakis which were supposed to be short-makin's for S, but they didn't fit him, so I traded him for a pair of cutoffs I've been meaning to sew the inseam on, but he didn't seem to mind them the way they are. In fact, his words: "They're perfect."

After that I picked up the produce, and I'm now stuck on remembering if I went anywhere directly after that or if I came home after that. --well, more recently, I got high and masturbated, so I'm in a special way with myself right now. that and the fact that I printed out my 113,363 words today, then copied them four times. It cost me $100. It felt like money well-spent.

I smoked a cigarette in the truck with the windows open. the air was dry but the 100°+ sun was beaming down strong on me. my b.o. smells different, rare, strong; skunky. I like it. I think it's the chemistry with the pheromones in it that makes it smell that way and/or makes me react that way to it. sexy...

oh, I smell different in different situations, don't you? (And aren't I a witty writer!)

I also went to the grocery store to return some antifungal lotion I inadvertently bought. I picked up a video of a popular standup who I won't name because it would date this entry (and I haven't watched it so I don't know if it's good yet), stopped for half a dozen plain glazed donuts from the nice Indian man at Mrs. Johnson's (who was Mrs. Johnson?). He told me the plain glazed weren't hot, suggested a variety of cake donuts they have - which were hot - and I hemmed and hawed and said okay, and he gave me four plain glazed in the box with the half dozen cake, "for the microwave."

S made breakfast tacos for dinner, I had a beer with mine. He had schoolwork so I got high, got inspired to write down "Holy Shit! I wrote a book!" or something like that (before the shower and video), and I'm sure it all sounded a lot better in my head.

And here I am.

saturday, december 18th (2004)

6:33 a.m.

The sky is just starting to lighten up; I've been awake since 4:30 or so. I'm having one more cup of tea (yerba maté) with a blanket over my shoulders before I head up for a long hot shower.

I've got a glitch in my left shoulder blade. That's what woke me up, the discomfort of that; that and the heat coming off of R's body. He smelled liked cigarettes and alcohol. I think it was shortly after 4 when he crawled in bed. We ate at Beyond the Edge and had a good talk, then I came home and went to bed and he went out.

He leaves tomorrow morning for Galapagos. I wish I was going but I'm glad I'm not spending all that money. I'm spending a big chunk of today meditating. P&J, who "run" the Shambhala group here, met a man at a recent meditation meeting and he offered up his home for a Nyinthiin (or something like that). It's basically an all-day retreat. We meet at 8, start meditating at 9, and except for breaks here and there meditate continuously until 7 pm. I think this is just the thing I need right now in my life, a little kickstart. And I'm glad it comes at a time when R is gonna be out of town. I'm hoping I'll be able to get a daily practice going and keep it going even after he comes back and the new year begins.

I spent the first part of my morning so far writing emails to people telling them I'm not going to be in NYC in February for the premiere of Cocus & Doot {the children's musical I wrote songs for}. I just can't afford it. LW was the one who convinced me (gave me permission?) to cancel it altogether.

And then I spent time online looking for events at the Shambhala Mountain Center in Colorado in the month of June (that's when I'll have relief from a couple of big chunks of my current bills, if all goes well). Then I looked at flight times...and then I found a website that compares cities' costs of living and all that.

I was surprised to see that Denver is actually slightly lower than Nashville. The unemployment rate is double what it is here, but hopefully that won't affect me too much since I have O.

I don't know if I want to go to Denver just because I want to try to have a relationship with A, but it sure would be nice to be near C and the St's and Estes Park and the mountains...and A.

I need a change. So much of the time R brings me down. I realize that. Last night was the first time in a while that I've been able to push past that. We had a good conversation (although I don't agree with the way he sees a lot of things in the world).

It's not all his fault. I've probably gotten to a place where I've just given up on him, and that's good for my peace of mind, but it leaves me open to feeling lonely and unloved. I think a lot of my crisis lately (besides the money thing) comes from the fact that I think my mother doesn't love me, that she really doesn't know how to.

R said, "Why does it matter?"
I said, "I don't know, it just does."
He said, "You just have to put it out of your head."

We had a long talk about that and his views on the planet and animals. Like I said, I don't agree with him on a lot of stuff, and that's okay.

Gotta go meditate...!