Announcing MFC (what number are we up to?).

i visited an old friend the other day. haven't seen AS in three years.
we'd been in sporadic contact over that time.

he's been hospitalized/incarcerated/treated in various mental health centres.

it was delightful and terrifying and crazy.

I'm fine with that.

Oh how I've missed you.

Also dunno if I've ever verbed "diary" before.

Stuff and Things.

It is well known that writing is not a lucrative path. Just ask all those people you've never heard of. (Ten cents per what? I'm insulted. Thank you very much, sir. May I have another?) Heck, even ask most of those people you have heard of -- dollars to doughnuts the lion's share have the same trouble paying the hydroelectric bill as you or me.

Typographic mega ultra superstars aside (your Kings, your Rowlings, your Suesses), writing is basically something you give away. Even when there is money involved it's usually a loss when the dust settles. The work is a donation.

(The local magazine I write for wants all the contributors to get together for lunch, but it's hard to agree on which soup kitchen is most convenient for everyone so the actual date remains a perpetually uncollapsed waveform.)

So this is why I have a day job.

"Ice fishers," said ana, gesturing at the shapes gathered around distant holes on Horn Pond as we drove past on the way to the grocery store.

"Yeah," I said. "Also knows as 'idiots,' as far as I can tell. I just don't get it."

And I don't, seriously. I mean, you go out onto this frozen pond, and how the hell do you know whether it's frozen all the way through? We have enough above-freezing temperatures, and enough thaws and freezes that I'd be skeptical first of all. Second, while I love ocean fish, I'm skeptical of freshwater fish, especially lake fish. These fish swim around in their own excrement all the time! And it's muddy! And third, you're fishing on the fucking ice! It's cold out there, and even this winter when I've decided not to feel the cold, I bet I'd think the wind whipping across the icy pond would be a little brisk.

But let's get this straight. While I'm certainly anti-ice-fishing, I'm not anti-fishing in general. I liked surf-fishing on the coast of North Carolina, even when all I caught were spots (which many people throw back, but which I always found to be delicious when battered and fried crisp). And, for a brief period of time, I tried very hard to learn to enjoy fly fishing.

Until I broke a rib.

It's a good thing that Sid Vicious never toured the Phillipines during his brief solo career. The authorities do not know exactly how many people have been killed warbling "My Way" in karaoke bars over the years in the Philippines, or how many fatal fights it has fueled.

Blather follows.

We had a snow event.
And other stories.