another manic shot day

Today is shot day, the 2nd to the last The haldol has been in my blood (& the blood is in my head) for years now -- do I have the Abilify to cope without it? & fuck Scientology. I'll be calling over to the Layout around Perky Pam's projected arrival time (9:00-ish) & see if I can wait long enough to let Trish drive the batmobile to work. It reassures her that she can do it when she calls home & talks about the drivers & the cooks.

Yesterday was sort of a down, low-key day for me. The editor of ASIM wrote back, saying that he "no longer cares" about QA. Although I realize that exploding at an editor is "counter-productive", it wouldn't have happened if he kept his editorial staff in line. There's no point in sending back a story with a page of insults, especially if you want that author to continue to write for you.

Then I had to cope with a piece of email from some dipshit I met on hotornot.com, who claims I "spend inordinate amounts of time sending pieces & parts of myself to publishers & stressing over rejection letters or acceptance letters". This is bullshit. I told her this morning that writing is one of the few things that adds meaning to my life, & that if she actually feels this way, we can't be friends.

I did have a good conversation with Bill Wimsatt, though. He told me enough about bacterial evolution to start a story (if I can figure out characters & a plot) & he cited a journal article for me about the split brain, called "One Brain -- Two Minds", by Michael Gazzaniga. This should be sufficient to disprove ASIM's claim that a brain-hemisphere transplant should lead to "two minds in one skull (which can talk to each other!)" as being "truly atrociously bad science". I certainly have no idea where they came up with the claim that I've "read way too much Robert Anton Wilson". In any case, it was good to talk to him again, & I was off the phone in time for my sweet Bumble Bee Girl to call home from work.

Then I checked my email & found that the biker chick on ICQ chat was online. We talked for a real long time. We have drugs & alcohol in common. I told her that I've quit everything, but wouldn't mind going back to pot. About the point where we got to it improving sex her daughter had to use the computer.

I had a TV dinner for lunch, then put on the first Austin Powers movie. By the time it wrapped up, Trish called home, during the deleted scenes at the end of the tape. However, when she called, she was upset over the other cars in the parking lot. She made it home without an accident, anyway.

We relaxed for a bit, then, when Trish took her shower, I played Blue Sunday over & over with different rhythms & sounds. I think that when I try again today, I'll slow the rhythms down some more. The song is really too ponderous to be played rapidly, anyway.

We had sketti-o's for supper, which was one of Trish's ideas. We also had frozen carrots & garlic toast.

I talked with my Chinese friend while Trish did some housework. She's a post-doctoral fellow in pharmacy & practices -- & even wants to teach -- Tai Chi. She respects my writing, unlike the bit-cuh who's sending in those unfriendly remarks.

We started Never Been Kissed when Taco John called. He said Mother is in about the same condition, & that no one's heard from David since he contacted Jerome. He'll probably won't even attend the funeral, 'cause of his warped wife. She's the one driving him crazy to an early grave, with all her herbs.

It's been awhile since I worked on "Relayer". If the 1/4 shot doesn't interfere, I'll do some more of the alien POV this afternoon.