Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Mostly with spelling it.


I’m still on Extremely Necessary Vacation and it hasn’t really gotten any less necessary.

Though I’m mostly enjoying myself.

This should be a fairly uneventful chicken because … well, I haven’t really done anything this week. Which was beautiful. And kind of the point of vacation. But it makes for a dull chicken. Sorry.

The hard stuff

Catching up on sleep: it’s like a job.

I was pretty sure that going on Extremely Necessary Vacation would be a kind of instantly revitalizing tonic.

But it turns out (again!) that all this filling back up again takes time. Stupid process! Why does it have to be so … process-ey?

So I’ve been feeling lethargic. There were at least a few days when it seemed like everything was naptime-ey and sloooooooooow.

Not feeling like writing.

Just haven’t been in the mood.


Switching back and forth between feeling great and feeling extra-crappy. And paranoid.

Speaking of paranoid, I’m kind of blaming the other (lady) chicken-ers for this, because I am convinced the Friday Chicken has put us all on the same screwy hormonal cycle. Which — since we’re not in the same room, much less the same time zone, is all kinds of weird.


Not doing it is a hugely important thing in the life of a writer.

I’m doing nothing but censor myself right now.

And even when I’m not, the self-censoring machine in my brain is turned on:

Don’t say “paranoid”. You know people won’t understand. You know that so-and-so (see? I’m doing it right now) will read it and bring it up the next time you talk. Don’t say this. Don’t say that. Don’t say anything. Don’t make waves.

Assaulted by a walnut!

Well, not really.

But it was a sugared walnut. Sugared! Seriously, who sugars a walnut?

And I, as you know, have been sugar-free for going on ten years. Which makes me slightly more susceptible to manic hopping around when it starts coursing through my veins.

Not my drug of choice. It was only a tiny little taste but it took its toll.

A long and extremely brisk walk and several glasses of water seemed to help, but I was still jittery, hyper and unbearably chatty for most of the evening. Chatty! Exhausting.

The good stuff

The 5-day rule.

This is a thing I noticed when I went on emergency vacation in June.

Something magical happened at the five day point. The whole vacation-ness of it all started doing its crazy thing.

So I’ve been having Interesting Realizations. And getting answers to troublesome questions.

It’s like my subconscious is starting to smooth everything out. It’s a lovely feeling. Hooray for Day 5.

Doing nothing.

Blessed nothing. Seriously. NOTHING.

One of the women who took five of my Berlin workshops sent me her favorite line from a Spanish poem:

“No hacer nada salva a veces el equilibiro des mundo”
– Sometimes doing nothing brings the world back into balance.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Found a new favorite cafe.

In Iceland.

With a cat.

It was pretty much perfect. The cafe, I mean. Not the cat. Though yeah, I really liked the cat. Pumpkin cat!

Also, there was sweet magical internet access there, and I was able to get things done.

My gigantic new orange sweater.

As previously threatened, I raided Berlin’s second-hand stores for absurdly cheap sweaters so that I wouldn’t have to pack any of them.

It’s lovely.

Back in my body.

Dance! Dance! Dance!

And … playing live at the meme beach house!

Yes, that’s a Stuism too.

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

So this week, I bring you:

One Hit Wonderpants

My gentleman friend: “Who were those guys? With the song? Something about underwear?”
Me: “One Hit Wonderpants?”
My gentleman friend: “I think it’s just one guy.”

And … STUISMS of the week.

Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him.

  • “donut make way” for instead of don’t make waves
  • “stab at myths understand things” instead of stupid misunderstandings
  • “the Texas posted” instead of sexist bullshit
  • “he’s resenting our Brian Cabell team opening a big or a game — mustard of course the boy” instead of there’s nothing more boring to me than talking about “playing a bigger game” — unless of course you’re a boy
  • “lest you Dare” instead of bless you, dear

And a reminder!

Remember? Naomi and I taught a class last March?

It was about mistakes we make that lose us money. Things that in a decent economy wouldn’t be a big deal. But it’s smart to stop doing them. And then, aside from all the what-not-to-do, we gave some sneakified tricks and some very good advice.

The recording is very fun and full of gratuitous cursing (this is Naomi we’re talking about) and lots of smartnesses that you should be writing down and memorizing.

Having watched some of the people who took pages and pages of notes at the time biggify like crazy since then, I feel pretty okay with promising results.

Anyway, we said the price would go back up to what it’s supposed to be in two weeks, or once a hundred people had it. It’s been what, two days? And we’re almost there.

So if you want a copy while it’s still outrageously affordable, now would be the time. And if it’s not your thing, that’s cool too. I still like you.

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.

The Fluent Self