drowned her in a bathtub.

Today's new thing was an attempt at musical zen.

I took a walk and listened to an album. I used to do this, so it's not exactly NEW, but I forgot how much I enjoyed it, and the album was new... so I'm counting it new. All you haters (there aren't any, but for some reason, I always talk to them) can say it's new or not. But I think it's new. That's the important thing.

The houses near me are startling. There were five treehouses, a red brick castle that overlooks all of Santa Cruz, homemade swings, well kept gardens, unkempt gardens, art deco gates, urban art... it was a beautiful walk. Set to absolutely fantastic music: cascading organ, build 'em up guitars, spanish flamenco picking, three singers, and a story worthy of... well. Folk mysticism, I guess. I would love to hear the whole thing just with a couple guitars and an organ, in front of a campfire, with Colin Meloy and crew telling the story with shadow puppets and their normal theatrics.

I loved it and plan on doing this more often. A good walk. Good music. Santa Cruz is a gorgeous place. I always forget that.

sink to the beat.

Today's new thing is a big step in my road to becoming...

becoming...

a good citizen?

Yeah.

Happy Graduation to Me!

said she's got it all, said she's got it all, said she's got it.

Back in Lulu's. Today's new thing is probably going to be Nick and Norah's playlist with Kristan.

But it might MIGHT MIGHT MIGHT be finishing this story. Or, at least, the first draft. That would be a great new thing. Perhaps the most fantastic new thing ever.

So, keep your fingers crossed? I know I am. It's making it hard to type. But all the luck it gives is worth it.

I want to go to heaven for the weather.

So Saturday was another trip to do an open mic night with Anthony, this time in San Francisco. We both bombed, but I don't think we should have - Farley's had an awful atmosphere, the comics were all bad people who used as many sound effects as they did punch lines, and the guys in front frowned the whole time.

Tough room.

But then Regina and Andre came to the rescue and took us to Andre's work/Soapstone factory, and we played on this giant crane, swinging about the soapstone warehouse. Seriously. And then they did crazy karaoke moves to Uninvited by Alanis Morisette and got kicked out of the karaoke bar for dropping the microphone.

Regina is a whirlwind of good time.

So three new things: Karaoke kick out, Stand up in San Francisco, and crane play. Heavy duty machinery equals heavy duty fun.

let's make some money.

Okay. I have a goal today.

I want to write to page 100.

So I'm liveblogging the event, just in case the new thing for today isn't "writing page 100 of the novel I'm writing."

I've never liveblogged before! Never really had a chance, but still!

So, let's see here... it's 2:25 pm. I have 9 and one half hours to write. I happen to be on page 60 since my last edit.

.....liveblogging now.....

2:26pm - blogging about liveblogging about writing. The spiral continues. It's like putting two mirrors that face each other. I'm at Lulu's at the Octagon (pretentious!) and I put a book on hold for myself over at Literary Guillotine as a treat for if I get as far as I want today. I have a full cup of coffee, a full cup of water. My computer is connected. My outline is next to me. I have fruit snacks, granola bars, and I am charged. Charrrrged. San Diego Super Chargers. Let's go team!

2:44pm - broken from my writing reverie by one someone whistling along to a song. The headphones are going to go on soon. I already wrote two pages! Beat that, Virgina Woolf!

3:08pm - it's funny what makes me stop writing. In this case, it was that I suddenly had no idea where my character was. Not my main character. The one that is going to enter the scene. I mapped out their conversation on my outline (and when I say mapped out, I mean I have three scribbles - "dead, me too" "where did they go?" "you and me, pete") but I have no idea where they have the conversation. So I stopped to visualize. I think they will have it on the couch, eating dry macaroni. Thanks, blog!

4:06pm - I am sort of trying to outlive everyone here at Lulu's. Wait, not outlive. Outstay. The girl on the right of me has been here before me. Same with the guy in the corner. Everyone on the other side of the octagon has changed, though. My coffee has gone cold, and I have that caffeine rush type of headache, but it isn't bad. I'll eat at six. I wrote eight pages this last hour. So, it seems extremely plausible that I can do forty by tonight. This goal seems incredibly reachable.

4:55pm - didn't write nearly as much this hour. I'm trying to get Pete back. Then everything is going to hop skip and jump towards a conclusion. I wouldn't be surprised if that happened, anyway. I think it will. Pete is the catalyst. Tock is trying. Ha! I'm talking utter nonsense. The guy to the left of me left, but the guy and the gear to the right are still there. I'm writing a novel, guy and girl. What are YOU doing?

5:25pm - thanks for the words of encouragement, April. I'm on page 75. But, that was with two interruptions. One was Chris Miller! He was my favorite employee from Sockshop. He quit before I got back from England, and I hadn't seen him since. And then Julio for a moment. We discussed sunglass flotation. And now I'm behind. Or whatever. I might be right on schedule. Pete's back soon. I missed him.

6:32pm - I win! I have officially been here the longest. Or perhaps I lose. I don't know. I am running out of steam. I am quite, quite hungry. And I don't want to spend any more money on coffee. I should go home, I guess... and then try to write more there. Maybe outside? 4 hours, 22 pages. Not bad.

9:16pm - ran into more folks I know - my focus is totally gone. Going, going gone. But it's a ground roll double. It ain't no home run. I still think I can write some more, but I want to hang out with some people tonight as well. I have decided to extend the deadline past midnight. We all know that it makes more sense if the day is just how long I've been awake. So... keep your fingers crossed. I have a good feeling about writing again at around 1030 or so.

12:33am - lightning struck. I know how it ends. It is the only way it could end. I can't wait. I have a long way to go, but I can do it. I'll see you all on the other side.

1:49am - I may know how to end it, and it's going to be awesome. But I can't write it well anymore. Caffeine fried my brain. I'm going to drink water and go to bed. 92 pages, my friends. Eight from the goal. Thanks for playing. Tomorrow and Sunday - the sprint to the finish line.

does he love you?

Everything in the show Dexter creeps me out.

But it also keeps me watching. I watched the entire first season in about a week. It's my new thing for today, because I finished it. The last three episodes are some of the best things I've seen for television since I started watching Mad Men. I miss Mad Men. But Dexter does an admirable job filling the time until the next episode of Mad Men.

The weirdest thing, though: about two weeks ago, I read KJF's book Wit's End. It talked about Santa Cruz being a murder capitol (capital?). Then, a couple days after I finished reading that book, I was clicking "random article" on wikipedia and came up on a serial killer that terrorized Santa Cruz a few decades ago. Erin randomly brought up the other killer in conversation the next day. The next night? We had a dinner party that had a choice between watching 300 and American Psycho, the movie where Christian Bale plays a serial killer. And then, a couple days after that, I finish The OC, go to delete the file from my computer, and see that a long time ago, Max gave me the first season of Dexter to watch. And there it was, beckoning me.

Oh, unknowable universe, what does it all mean?

Jeez, even the promo shots for this show are terrifying. That is NOT his hand.

I'm glad I'm horrified by Dexter. But I don't quite understand what makes me keep watching. Is it all the suspense? Is it poor Rita? Why am I so fascinated? Someone else who watches the show, let me know.

into the fold.

I left my camera in Davis, damnit. Or "dammit?" Which is correct? Dad, do you know? Ask mom.

Today's new thing was a book signing for Neil Strauss. I have never read one of his books. However, he has written such tomes of American literature like How to Make Love like a Pornstar (with Jenna Jameson, of course) and The Dirt with Motley Crue. But perhaps he is best known for The Game, which is about his rise to the top of the pick-up artist secret society. He gives a lot of advice on how to become a pick-up artist yourself.

Anthony and I went because for the book Emergency: This Book Will Save Your Life, we heard he was bringing a live wolf to readings. He did not bring a live wolf to this reading. But he should have.

He is not a classically attractive man by any means.

So, that's comforting.

All the questions had little to nothing to do with his new book. Everyone wanted more advice on how to pick up women. There were about two girls in the crowd. He had brought his girlfriend along with him, and would use her an example, as in, "this is the type of girl you could get." She was heavily made up and showed a lot of cleavage.

Overall, I think the reading did its job. I want to read his book now. The first chapter of Emergency is him about to kill a goat. I'm trying to get a copy of the book The Game on bookmooch. He was a really, really nice guy. He gave me advice on how to write for Rolling Stone, which is his day job.

I don't want to be a pick up artist. But I think "running the game" (that's how everyone referred to it) sounds like an interesting new thing. Then again, everyone in line to get their book signed said it mostly boiled down to confidence.