A Hazy Shade

I've been especially listless and tired lately, more so than I usually am, and it's been hard for me to 1) get anything done or 2) be an interesting person. It has resulted partly in one of my friends is now calling "poopy diaper face," which is apparently my expression when I don't look happy. I, with some offense taken, insist this is just my normal face.

I assume this might be "poopy diaper face," but that's unconfirmed at this time.

Last night, for example, I should have been laying out LOCUSPOINT....but lacking a sense of true urgency, I crawled into bed with Arden and watched an embarrassingly large number of Veronica Mars episodes before falling asleep.

I'm trying to resolve to write a little bit each day, for about an hour after work, but I've had a hard time pinning it down. I hope that in the meantime, my subconscious "creative" mind isn't being as lazy as the rest of me.


  1. A little Ponds cold cream will clear that poopy diaper face right up.

  2. id be poopy diaper face too if i had a small human growing out of my shoulder. there goes your sex life.

  3. Hmm. Well, if you were to urinate on the television set while it was playing a reality beauty model real-life fantasy show, you might get a zesty shock that would perk you right up.

    Or you could just recline on a sofa sculpted from solidified chef boy ardee that's been woven with lilacs for a nap until things turn better.

    Or go to the local blood bank and let them siphon out anything left to nourish the ailing talking heads that encircle what we all want.

    Of course, if you ever come by Seattle, I'd be happy to give you a warm and nurturing kick in the ass, aimed squarely to send a shock wave that would blow off the dome of your skull. I sure as hell won't be coming over to THAT Washington.

    Otherwise, I'd suggest re-runs of 50's era nuclear family shows. A lightly scented bath in the black void of starlight. And maybe something sour for your bumps on your tongue that would actually be treacle when kissed.

    Possibly, a spinning dance, with 8 arms holding blades. I wouldn't know.

    But it ought to be something. Honestly.

  4. I don't have anything to say about poopy diaper face (other than I had it all weekend; maybe it's indigenous to October?) but just wanted to aver that "I'm just a notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song" is my new favorite EVERYTHING.

    Apply enchiladas as needed.

  5. Awwww...someone needs a hug.

  6. feel better, my friend

  7. Probably just letdown after all your excitement over the past few months - you know, packing up, moving cross-country, starting a new job, getting a new place. Just a few little things like that ;) Take it easy, take good care of yourself, the writing will return full-speed...

  8. I like your face. I always have.

  9. I like your face. I always have.

  10. I like it so much, I said it twice! (actually, I blame my cat for stepping on the keys for that)

    Oh the blogger excitement, now there's a cure for P.D.Face