(update)

Sorry I haven't written anything (as if anyone reads this or cares!)-- it's been a rough summer (and spring) which I don't want to talk (or write) about, and I've responded to my woes with strong drink of remarkable little variety. Maybe it was the move, too. I just can't move around like I used to. I need to settle in somewhere (besides a barstool). Oh, well, I'm not promising anything, but perhaps in the future, I'll at least get around to describing my surroundings, my job (i.e. the way I make money), and my obsession with everything I have an obsession with. That includes more than one thing, which is partly why I am distracted (and partly not).

Middlefield Center

That picture (below) is not really where I live, I just liked the picture, because it's actually a satellite map, and you can zoom back away from it. It seems like it must be a very exotic place, which is exactly the opposite of Middlefield Center, my new home. Why did I move to Middlefield Center? There are no jobs, the rent is too expensive, there is no cultural diversity (that made me laugh, to write that). This is the kind of place where half the residents would FREAK OUT if they were building a Taco Bell. So why did I move here? One reason is because there are no Taco Bells. Another is because Beck doesn't live here. Another is because vodka is still used for screwdrivers, not martinis in a place like this. And another is because there is like one bar for every two people in this town. Therefore, presuming each bar needs some kind of bartender to run it, there is a good chance that you can always find a place to drink more or less alone.

Here I am!

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Happy That It Exists New Year

It's been a long time since I've written anything, even a ransom note. I'm still around, however-- the question being, "around what."

I pretty much couldn't put up with Milwaukee anymore and left town. I realized that if I saw one more crappy building go up I was going to start drinking again. As it turns out, I started drinking again in another city, anyway. But it's not the same. It's very much not the same.

It took me all of autumn to move, and even longer to get my internet connected at my new place. It's a good feeling to open your email after all those months and see absolutely no spam! Nothing but a lot of really useful offers, we miss you notes, love letters, and, well, just a few death threats. I deleted it all, however, and I'm starting over fresh.

But I'm not, at least for now, saying where.