Hodge Podge

A few random thoughts -- well, not so random really, since they're all coming from ME. But I can't figure out how to organize them (in my head they're bouncing around like a bunch of nuclear atoms or free radicals, whatever those are), so here we go. (Better they rattle around on paper than in this presently fragile skull of mine.)

* Election is over. Thank god. It was a long night. Now -- on to another obsession: Christmas!

* I got my free "Madley on Ice" skating/almost falling Eskimo Girl .gif (on my sidebar) at The Animation Factory -- thank you for asking. :)

* It's true what Benjamin Franklin said about sleep (I think it was him and I'm paraphrasing). "Every hour you sleep before midnight is worth two after." Waking up Monday after all that sleep being sick, I woke up feeling like a 10-year old with the most amazing energy in the world -- I have to keep this in my sense memory... it was delicious and empowering. Or I can go the "avoid the pain route" and remember that for the last two days I've been up to my old "sleep at 6 am" routine it FEELS LIKE SHIT to get up when the sun is waning.

* I got an email on the LAComposers Yahoogroup List about a 3-month residency in Cassis, France (near Marseilles). I drooled. For a second. Then I wiped it up and got back to self-flogging: I can't speak French but for a few "charming" phrases. I'm not a professional. I'm not a student. I "always" apply to these stupid things to go abroad and I "never" get into them, so why don't I just get my ass over there on vacation and see if I like it. [Truth: wanted to go since 14, applied twice in College (1981, 2003), results = negative; one job applied to in Lugano, Switerland (1981), got it, refused it -- overall conclusion: LOSER.) I'd be bored for three months with no focus but to "vacate." I need a recommendation. I don't know anybody academically except for Sexy, Handsome, French Ex-Crush-of-Mine Composition Teacher who'd do anything for me like that. Wait, he's already written a letter like that for that was unbelievable. No, no. Push this out of your mind, c'est impossible! Wake up, you fool. You're setting yourself up.

* My kitchen is clean. It makes me want to -- heat up things. And how does Comet work, anyway?

* I just checked if Answer Girl answered my query on her blog (that I just found) about why she made the move from LA to Maine. I'd read her entire 100+ entry blog last night waiting for election results -- she starts every entry with a movie quote, the set-up for the quote (who said it, when, etc.) and then How to Use the quote. And then she does it herself. Terrific read, highly recommend!

Here's what she says:

But I'd been freelancing in Los Angeles for five years, and I could no longer justify the expense when I knew my income would remain the same no matter where I was. Also, I was no longer automatically throwing out the Botox coupons I was getting in the mail.

So I said to myself, out loud, "I need to get out of here." About an hour later -- really -- my friend Anna called, and I was complaining about my rent, and she said, "You should move to Maine! We have apartments for rent, coming open all the time."

I laughed at the idea, but it stuck in my mind. I'm a Navy kid myself (I looked at your profile), so moving's never daunted me -- I spent 17 years in Washington, but was notorious for moving house about once every two years, because I'm just programmed that way.

A week or two after my conversation with Anna, I was out with a group of writers and book-people -- the night one friend used the line, "We've gone on holiday by mistake" -- and suddenly realized that nothing was keeping me in Los Angeles, and I ought to see whether another kind of life would suit me better.

So here I am.

After screaming at "no longer automatically throwing out of Botox coupons" (MWAHAHAAH!), I realized she'd said the exact same words I did when it was time for me to leave Manhattan: nothing was keeping me in Los Angeles. Uh-oh. Probably another reason I'm having trouble finishing this recital and being DONE... nothing's keeping me here anymore.

So I reread the email: "as well as creative projects by visual artists, photographers, video artists, filmmakers, media artists, composers, and writers." I read some of the projects that had been accepted in the past. Surely there could be a place there for me.

Oh God.

I may have to apply for that residency after all. Just saying that petrifies me -- and that's only about filling out paperwork.