If you’re reading this, I already want to hug you. Because that means, despite my absurdly long silence, you managed to hold out a flicker of hope that I would come back to enlighten you with my trademark profundity and sophistication. And aren’t you the lucky one? Here I am!
For what it’s worth, I’ve missed you all fiercely. And since I’m sure you’re all wondering, I’ve been a busy Cuban. Since my last post, I have:
- studied for and successfully completed the GRE.
- been ferociously attacked by a flying roach (but more on that later).
- fallen down the stairs at my parents’ house, creating the most ridiculous looking bruise on my ass in the process.
- completed and submitted my graduate school applications. (Well, most of them.) It was a whore. Personal statement essays are basically “this is why I’m awesome” essays. I kept resisting the urge to just send them a link to my “Essentials” page. That’s all anyone needs to know about me anyway.
- composed and submitted a conference proposal.
- invented a new game: when waiting for a prescription at the drugstore, head for the nearest display of romance novels with a friend. On the count of three, start flipping through. First one to locate a throbbing body part wins. (If you’re waiting alone, ask a stranger to join you. But you may have to resort to time trials. My record is 5.7 seconds. Try me.)
- (accidentally) drowned my iPhone in my friend’s pool.
- polished my resume.
- made a fucking amazing raw, dark chocolate cake.
- went to Mons Venus in Tampa where I met a stripper with the most unbelievable ass I have ever seen. And told her so. God, it was perfection. Oh, to have a statue of that ass in my garden.
I also got a comment from Rod Evans, the author of a book I mentioned a while back called The Gilded Tongue. (The subtitle is “Overly Eloquent Words for Everyday Things” and the cover is purple velvet and embossed in gold. I swear, it’s like he wrote it just for me.)
So, while I was busy being an achiever, what have you all been up to?
In the coming weeks, I plan to post various pieces I’d begun and never got around to posting. I may even back-date them to give you the time-travel effect. Maybe then when you come back to the present, you’ll feel like I was with you all along. There’s also a special Valentine’s Day poem waiting for publication when the time is right. (I wanted to post it just in time to counteract all the red carnations and heart-shaped idiocy. Wait for it.) I will also be making a few small updates to IB (housekeeping for the most part, don’t worry) and generally getting my life in order. I hope to re-establish the WoW soon as well. Much love to all of you. Stay tuned!
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
Glad to hear you’re still alive, I’ve really been missing my WoW fix.
Thank you, Alex. It’s good to be alive. Honestly though, I’ll feel even more alive once I’m posting weekly words again. Wait for it.
And thanks for the love.
Stormy, who could leave you? We have all waited patiently for stories of your ass bruises and a perfect strippers ass. Congrats on all your accomplishments. I would seriously like you to email me the recipe for your cake. I am a raw dark choclate fanatic! And “fucking awesome” seals the deal for me!
Thanks, Chuck!
I love that you love raw chocolate. I’ve always been a (dark) chocolate whore but this is my latest obsession. Also, I’ve recently begun making chocolate truffles. (It’s like giving a drug addict a well-stocked chemistry kit and an instruction manual for making his/her drug of choice. Passionate disaster.) And I love it.
Done! Enjoy it.
YOU CAME TO TAMPA AND DIDN’T SAY HELLO?
*pimp hand*
(Mons is, like, seven miles from my house.
I’ve never actually been there.)
I HAD NO IDEA YOU LIVED IN TAMPA!
You have to tell me these things.
You should go to Mons. I regretted not having a plaster cast so I could take this girl’s ass home with me.
I lack the discretionary income or appropriate attitude to go to what was colloquially referred to in my childhood home of Buffalo as “the Canadian Ballet.”
ie: I’m poor and don’t see the point, so I don’t enjoy it.
I’m poor too. I only visit strip clubs with wealthy friends.
And I think it’s probably different for girls, but I always have fun.
I need wealthy friends.
You were in Tampa and you didn’t see Rafe? I’m not sure why, but this makes me sad. If your life was a book, this would be the ships passing in the night part. Although your ship, apparently, was all lit up with party lights and stripper asses, and probably missed Rafe’s rowboat by a hair, and that only because he rows really fast. And he probably stood in his boat, an unwise move for an established boater, and shook his fist at your ship. But you were too busy licking champagne from the stripper’s belly button and didn’t even see him shake his fist OR fall into the water when the wake from your ship hit his rowboat. But it’s all good now. Phew. I love a happy ending.
This comment is poetry. I want to print it out and frame it.
Welcome back, Chicken! <3