???

You know how sometimes you really want to post, but you can't quite decide what to say--how much of yourself you may want to give to the semi-strangers who orbit your sphere of being on a day-to-day basis? That's kind of how I feel today. Wanting to say something, yet holding back just to avoid repeating the same sentiments I seem to spew forth on a regular basis. I think I'm feeling a little self-protective these days. Sometimes the process of reaching out is too exhausting and semi-scarring to maintain.

I will say this much: I worked on that darn novel a bit last night. It's no literary masterpiece, but it's a start. Snappy, sarcastic chick-lit, material culled from personal experience. It's quite a relief to see that my time in the underbelly of progressive politics has inspired some entertaining prose. Even my relationship with my old organization's temperamental copy machine has inspired a few witty paragraphs.

I'm also working on a mix. It's a bit melancholy and unformed. Here's what we got so far (in no particular order):

Clare Quilty--Sleep With You
Laura Viers--Galaxies
Giant Drag--This Isn't It
Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins--You Are What You Love
Hole--Boys on the Radio
Josh Ritter--Good Man
Lucinda Williams--Can't Let Go
Neko Case--If You Knew


Mostly I'm just supremely bored and unsettled. Do you ever have that feeling where everything just feels like it's in a permanent state of transition?