Can't Speak, Have Been Writing

I have a problem. I tend to do most of my writing with headphones on while drinking espresso. Now then, if a writing session is going well - I may be wherever I am for upwards of four or five hours. Multiply that by an unreasonable amount of coffee.

Then, for kicks we'll add in the fact that if it's been AT ALL successful, I am in some kind of lost zone where I can't string words together verbally, form thoughts into active gestures or sentences - just stare blankly ahead and maybe even cock my head a little to one side or the other like a puppy watching the front door. This happens for two reasons:

1. I'm locked in. See you later, Jesus - my head is elsewhere.

2. I'm spent. It's not bragging when I say that with the right music on the stereo and the right amount of caffeine I can type circles around even the best of them - it's exhausting. My brain is working too hard for too long - and then power outtage - rolling black outs.

I say all this because today just such an occasion happened.

I spent 5 hours at a little coffee shop on Front Street and after I had nothing left, my eyes bouncing and blurry, I took out my headphones and began packing my things together.

"Bleh bloo starry nacka nicko?" says the girl behind the counter.

"I'm sorry, what?" I say. 5 hours of loud music, zero brain activity - and she wants to chit-chat. Oh no, oh no no no.

"Working on a story?"

"Yes?"

She goes on to explain that she writes poetry, god bless her. Her mom is a mystery novelist. I can't feel my knees and I think I'm making fun of Dan Brown. There is no formal introduction despite the fact that she is talking directly to me and the fact that I have asked her for the bathroom key once every forty minutes since before the sun set.

"Okay, I'm going to the grocery now," me, stuttering, barely communicative.

"Nice to meet you," she says.

"Okay. Thanks."

This is not how we make friends in the real world, though those who understand this problem (ie Krissy) have suggested I make note cards to hand out like the deaf/mutes on international trains and busses. If I could convince people to buy key chains, I may be able to afford the coffee I drink. Synergy. Yes.

Updates Long Overdue

I just can't do it. I can't get myself excited about white wine. I'll drink it, I'll taste it - I'll tell you about what it tastes like and maybe even what food would go with it - but I just can't seem to muster the kind of excitement that would prod me in the direction of buying it and drinking it with the sole purpose of wine-enjoyment in mind. I can't.

An update for those who enjoy updates: all is well.

The Maui sunshine continues to do its thing, shining all day and making the world approximately 81 degrees without ever really pushing the envelope. If you're out there and moving around, sure it gets warm. If you're out there and not moving at all - yes, it gets hot. But if you're just an idle wanderer, your flips on and sunglasses tight round your face, the breeze blowing in at around seven miles an hour - - yea, that's all there is to it.

The restaurant is also going well except for the fact that everyone wants to quit the restaurant. Some are actually doing it. Our executive chef is leaving. His sous chefs, leaving. The other GM - packing the bags. Our GM - looking around. It seems that the excellent situation of that Place will come and go and experiencing it in its decline will only leave a bad taste in the mouth. Just a job, will find another.

Have sent away 20 submissions and already have been rejected from the place I sent the wrong material to. They said: "not a fit for us" and then referenced the story I'd sent. I sent them the correct piece immediately, and am now waiting rejection for it. So that's good.