2018, am I right? What a time. Things happened and that one dude was like, “what up” and then he turned out to be a jerk and then that person was all, “woah” and that was a thing. But really, it’s all nonsense cause time is an illusion and poets lie and we’ll all be stardust again. So, let’s ignore that a year passed because borders are arbitrary and we all are reborn every time we open our eyes.
Also I hate year end lists. So I’m going to rank my top 5 New Year’s Eves.
1) 2004 — I was back in town for the a couple months and I didn’t have a date so my midnight kiss was my buddy Casey. Also, lots of dancing to Prince.
2) 2018 — My first with my son. He was sick and my wife was asleep so I mostly played Dragon Age.
3) 2006 — Another dancing New Year, this time in a bar that is no longer around because all good things end. The last song (at 4am) was “Add it Up” by the Femmes and it was perfect
4) 1999 — Oddly, no Prince
5) 2001 — I was sick so I stayed home and wrote some bad poetry. New Year’s Eve is overrated
In Writing news:
I’ll be in New York on 1/12 reading at KGB Bar for Trumpet Fiction. If you’re in the area, come see me. I’ll read a little bit of poetry and then some fiction. I like reading.
A flash fiction piece was published over at Pidegonholes. This was actually based on a nightmare I had.
How to Sit, a book I published in October, is long-listed for a PEN Award. FINGERS’ CROSSED! Here’s a brief article about it.
That’s it y’all. Thanks for stopping in. Let’s make 2019 our bitch.