Celebrated Leslie's birthday last night chez my favorite art star. Relatively unscathed post wisdom tooth surgery last week, i had to abstain from the drink which always provides an interesting outlook on the party dynamic. I am now facing my first week of complete unemployment with several small freelance gigs to warm the fires but c'est tout. I dreamt this morning about living in Montreal for the summer because someone offered me a job in a cool Plateau bookstore, which in the dream I remember existing but sadly never has. I don't think the Plateau exists the way it did in 1996 when I last lived there anyway. Woke up not thinking it was the worst idea in the world. But alas, my heart is here, in my near fully unpacked apartment after 9 months at the Ossington street homo haven, a personal unpacking record, my own 227 victory.
I'm waiting for two manuscripts to come back with edits and I'm somewhat nauseous with terror and hopeful sedation. In the mean time I'm trying to write something new, which hasn't amounted to much more than dialogue between a boy and a donkey in 1940s Syrmna. It's worse than it sounds.
I'm waiting for Suzy to pick me up for breakfast at Saving Grace where we're going to talk about our graphic novel. We received an amazing response from some publishers through the writer's reserve program, now we have to get it in gear. It's the most unabashedly sentimental stuff I've ever written but I kind of revel in it's earnestness. You can read early excerpts from it in this book .