I woke up this morning with the mother-in-law of all hangovers.
I know better than to mix my likkers but last night I did just that at a friend's kick ass barbecue, had a cosmo and some red wine and a sip of white and then some Scotch. Add in a few puffs on a cigar, and around 1 a.m. I crossed the alcoholic Rubicon into the land of I Am Going to be Really Sick.
Segue to this morning--a mere 4 hours of sleep, stomach that feels like it's harboring a festering squirrel carcass, cigar smoke coating my hair and tongue, and a headache tiptoeing around the inside of my ringing cranium. Coffee and a hot shower jump started my draggy corpse but the thing that really resuscitated me was pho.
A big bowl of vegetable pho, steaming hot, loaded with herbs and noodles and jalapenos, heavy on the salt. A few spoonfuls at an overbright Fremont noodle place playing dance music, and I felt my stomach start to settle.
PS: Super gracias to the friends who hauled my sorry butt off the grass and into the car this morning. I promise to pay all the cleaning bills.
I've been reading quite a few memoirs, courtesy of the Seattle Public Library. I want to write one, as you know, so I've been absolu...
A couple of weeks ago I collaborated with the indubitable thad wenatchee and others to write a radio play. See more on how it went:
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.