Open Letter #1.

Dear New York:

It's been a while since we had a real conversation, hasn't it?

Click to read more ...

This blog, like everything else, is changing.

Watch.

If it is to BEA...

All right, folks, I'm off to Book Expo America, aka #BEA09, aka "I wonder how many free books I can stuff into various pockets".

Watch for my liveblog of the conference at BabyGotBooks, and hopefully I'll see you at the "people's party" (Publisher's Lunch)/the "new media afterparty" (other places)/"damn, this was some work"(everyone involved)-the BEA Tweetup

Worker Bee Thousand

I am busy with stuff.

Here is a list of that stuff.

In the words of the great Arthur Dent, "I seem to be having this tremendous difficulty with my lifestyle." For someone seeking full-time employment (or, as I've come to say, "going in-house somewhere"), I am seriously, seriously busy.

First: this Saturday, May 23, the second monthly Resonator Magazine live music showcase in Manhattan takes form of: RESrawk!

All the info is here, the facebook event (complete with sheep-drinking-from-water-fountain flyer) is here, and my interview with Elizabeth Elkins, of Ghost of Summer Suns & The Swear, is here .

Then: Book Expo America, and the BEA Tweetup. Info's here.

Finally, I'm involved in the 140 Character Conference on Twitter.

OH WAIT-one last thing (like Steve Jobs says):

"Just Working On My Novel"

this is why i have not written a thousand words on tori amos. yet.

Unn-plugge'd

Edited, from an email I sent this morning to my dear friend, aka the person who is responsible for me not being homeless in NY:

I have pushed myself, in the past day or so, to the point of two nervous breakdowns, one at one point where I was convinced that I've made the absolutely worst mistake possible, that New York hates me, that you hate me, that the rest of my friends hate me, and that I need to get the fuck out-move to ******, work at ***** for 22k a year and just live a miserable life.

I then...got really sick, and cried listening to the new Tori Amos album on repeat like five times.

So basically my last 24 hours have been akin to my high school experience, only at that point in my life I'd have induced the vomiting myself.

(It's worth noting that now's when I should repeat to myself "Panini Time")

It's not that things are bad-they aren't. I just feel like my parachute's the wrong color, like my cheese has been moved, like despite all my rage I may or may not be a caged rodent.

And so I am spending the next few days (gasp) offline. Disconnecting. Unplugging like I was Natalie Merchant, you guys were all the 10,000 Maniacs and this was MTV.

Basically hibernating and not being on the fucking internet and gathering my pieces back to center.

This may or may not include binging on the Tori Amos' Abnormally Attracted To Sin, it may or may not include my first trip to Coney Island. It will not include hot dogs.

Friends, Romans, Clients: you've all been notified. BEA is coming up, I have a bunch of projects that begin on Monday, and oh, next weekend is the next Resonator Magazine party.

So,if I were to not do this, I'd probably, by the middle of next week, end up shivering in a corner mumbling "Pinkberry BEA Pinkberry BEA" over and over again, drooling on myself and listening to Bat For Lashes on repeat.

So-no fbook. No twitter. Zilch.

When I return, I'll probably write like 18,000 words on the Tori album. You're stoked like the fires in my heart, I know.

(Oh, and you should read this. I wrote it for Creative Loafing's Summer Guide, and apparently it's really, really good. I don't know, I just realy like Meat Loaf. I intend on one day making my karaoke debut with my rendition of "I Would Do Anything For Love".)

Don't think it's slipped my attention that I blogged about not being online.