Yesterday, I wrote 1,575 words on Chapter Six of Fay Grimmer. And something big happened that I didn't see coming. That sort of reshuffled the deck, so to speak. However, I've found a solution to the problems it created, and the book will still be finished by November 30th. Probably just a little more than 10,000 words to go now. Still, if you want to know why I can't write using outlines, see above.
I hope some of you have read the first twelfth of Alabaster: Boxcar Tales. If you can't find an actual copy of Dark Horse Presents #18, remember, there's always Dark Horse Digital, which is actually pretty cool. This morning I found drawn pages (in various stages of completion) from parts three and four of Boxcar Tales waiting in my email. From yesterday. Which I ought to have gone over yesterday. Problem is, there's a four-hour difference between Caitlín Standard Time and Pacific Standard Time. And, lately, I have grown to loathe checking my email, especially after my 5 p.m.. Rarely is it anything I want to see.
As predicted, there was Thanksgiving pizza yesterday from Fellini's, and I have photographic evidence (below). I'd expected a pizza made with roast turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, dressing, and just a dab of cheese (with cranberry sauce on the side) would be, at best, a grotesque novelty. Actually, it was delicious. Next year, we get a whole pie.
All in all, I don't care for Thanksgiving. While it's surely more innocuous than Xmas, it's inherently religious premise leaves me cold. If I did believe in a god or gods, it rubs me the wrong way, this idea of thanking omnipotent deities for stingy mercies. "We forgive you for creating evil and allowing it to flourish, because you kindly gave us dysfunctional families and iPhones and pornography to sort of help us cope with all that evil. And disease. And pain. And the Kardashians." Fortunately, being an atheist, I don't even have to bother with the formality of opting out. I do like turkey, though. And pecan pie. And I am grateful that we seem to be on the verge of an Israel-Hamas ceasefire, and that we still have President Obama, and I'm grateful for my pain meds. And Kathryn, she's not so bad, either.
Last night, we finished House M. D., which we began watching on August 17th. Which means we compressed eight seasons into a mere three months. Which is really the way one ought to watch television, just as comics are better as collected graphic novels. I loved the series. Some seasons were much better than others, the best of it all being somewhere around seasons Three and Four. Off the top of my head, the best of the best was "House's Head" (4:15) and "Wilson's Heart" (4:16), along with "Help Me" (6:22). To anyone paying attention, House M. D. did a nice job of slyly teaching critical thought, the scientific method, and a bit of pathology. Hugh Laurie is brilliant, and it never hurts to find yourself with an extra role model. Also, long will I adore Remy "Thirteen" Hadley and Chi Park. And Wilson. It's all a grand reimagining of Sherlock Holmes, dressed up as a weekly hospital melodrama. Fuck, but I wish the series could have landed on Showtime or HBO. It would have been better. It would have been freed of all manner of restraints. There would have been profanity and nudity, for example. How the fuck are we supposed to fucking believe that every other fucking word out of House's mouth wasn't "fuck"? "You're an idiot" vs. "You're a fucking idiot." I know which one gets my vote. A smart show would have been smarter. And, too, and I'm sorry that cancellation cut the series short by a season (a genuinely moronic tale of corporate greed and slaughtering the golden goose), but it still managed a good wrap. So, brava. And, on that note, this whackadoodle email which I received nine days ago (November 13) from some person calling him- or herself Kiki Lang ( firstname.lastname@example.org ):
You liked the last two of season four, shame. During the first three season David Shore had a daily fist fight with Paul Attansio, and Katie Jacobs. David came up with Greg House, while Paul and Katie had the idea of a diagnosis show. Paul and Katie hated David Shore, and they hated Greg House even more. David S. thumbed his nose at societies lies. He used the show to point out the truth in America. For example: Cops are paid thugs, Doctors don't care, Homeless people are people too.... the list was endless. David shore also pissed off Fox Corp. David S. had a free hand on what he could say with the show, but Fox put end to that, and neutered David Shore and Greg House in season Four. Watch the last scenes in the last episode of season three. It was David shore saying good bye. Actual this episode was intended as the end of the show by David Shore. As Greg House said" I should feel bad, but don't"
See, because it's always nice to be reminded some people are bigger lunatics than am I. Also, Kiki, your grasp of English grammar is...well...maybe you have no grasp of English grammar, so never mind.
Life is pain! I wake up every morning, I'm in pain. I go to work in pain. You know how many times I wanted to just give up? How many times I thought about ending it? ~ Gregory House
Just a Dream,