It's Friday evening...I'm once again back at the Office, to see what can transpire through my brain and my fingers tonight. It has been a busy week.
My job interview on Monday went well, I think...I do not expect to learn anything for a while, as the process is one where others have to be interviewed, and then the decision comes down, all of that. I am not terribly worried, nor am I anticipating any great news for a little bit. Would be nice, but we'll see.
TrafficTalk goes between quiet and active; the bosses were out in LA for a meeting with ABC types, and I guess it went well. Still not sure what they have in mind for us, but I think it's a good step forward. We shall see.
I did a full examination of The Other Roads Club. This is a fiction trilogy I wrote in 2009, and is what I wrote after the Sweet Dreams Series. Like the next one...the first two were good, with minimal editing, but the third needed some help. Saw an awful lot I did not like about it, and found myself adding some scenes and changing some things. It reads a lot better now.
Now that ORC-3 has been put back to bed, I need to think about what is next. I have three manuscripts that have to continue to edit and work on; two I'm feeling accomplished with and the other, I dunno. Clunker, I suppose.
My friend Riz (the fine writer of Letters from the Disgruntled Fringe, here on this same blogging part of the universe) has written quite openly about her search for a man. Some of what she writes about is even a bit graphic for my tastes, but not by much.
I suppose we're all searching and I admit to be searching far afield. It is likely to come to very little, and also there is the element of weirdness that comes about like this. Whatever the case, hunting for someone never really works for me.
People have asked me the usual question of, "Are you seeing anyone?" If I were, would I be doing any of this?
Pennsylvania is a backwater for relationships of any real, lasting type. One other friend of mine in her quest says men are either desperate for sex or incredibly picky in terms of what kind of person they want. But we all do that. Usually, when we do find someone we like, all things get thrown out the fucking window and we forget about it.
This place has no potential for me; most women here are already married or in a relationship, though that is a relative term. A lot of people (men and women both, folks) seem to want someone to fit into THEIR slots of acceptability, and your own wishes, needs, etc., mean shit.
No fun, folks; why even try?
My Office friend whom I won't name is perpetually on the make, and while the younger ones of my circle can indulge in that, it does not work well for me. I'm one of the Creepy Old Guys in the Office, I'm afraid; but I hardly feel old, nor do I give a shit what anyone thinks.
I am reminded of mortality; my old Rocky Horror compadre Stacey is right now in MGH, dealing with...a heart attack. She's younger than me, several years younger I think. She's gonna make out okay from what we have heard but that certainly does make you think a little bit.
So what now am I doing? Need to consider what to work on next. To continue writing is to continue to stay the fuck out of trouble, and to also get myself out of the hole.
Need to think...need to think a lot...and yet, that appears to be all I have done of late.
I again am reminded of missing the world I left behind; that is, New England and the gang up there. Would like to go back again, but I do have little in the way of funds, and I also have to travel to VT this summer for my nephew's wedding.
Urg. I did have plans to do a retreat of sorts, but I don't know when. Not a spiritual retreat, but a writer's one. Don't need to right this second, but I'd rather do it on the spur of the moment. I'll consider it all later.
I'm rambling...time to get to work.