My Cardboard Balcony

These past couple weeks have been an odd mix of activity and inactivity, happiness and sadness, confidence and anxiety. I submitted my novella manuscript to a small LGBT publishing press, added to my graphic novel script (I'm on Volume Two), and have had some wonderful times with my family, friends, and girlfriend. My sixth play has come to a standstill, but I had a job interview today and I'm hoping that with more interviews and maybe a job, I can gain some inspiration again. My mind, especially during slow days, has been racing. While I love being home and know I'm safe and secure and happy in Northern California with my family and friends...my heart pines for Southern California. It's where I went to college. It's where a lot of my friends are. It's where my girlfriend is. It's where my life was for four years. But a lot of things hold me back from moving down - lack of a car and a job being the major snag. So I'm job searching high and low and tryi...

High Roman Status by Belinda Roddie People ask me if I want to be a martyr, some kind of gladiator who stumbles into the arena just to rip out some poor guy's heart out of his chest like he's parodying the Indiana Jones movies. I say, "No, none of that shit." I want to be High Roman Status. I want to be the emperor surrounded by fawning ladies, second only to Zeus, so he doesn't get pissed off and try to smite me with lightning bolts or curse me, or maybe fuck my lover and have his jealous bitch of a wife turn her into some form of cattle." The work you see here has only been slightly modified for mechanics and errors since September 7th, 2009.

Crisp chips on a golden plate. Ketchup drizzle. Mustard stain. Drop a penny in the bowl by the counter and tell Rita I said hello. Drink a coffee by the Shannon and think about mussels in a pot with garlic wine sauce. Explore the vacant avenues. A boot print in the mud by the Anglican church. Breathe. Smell. Smile. Remember.