Hi. I’ve been quiet lately. I wish I could tell you that was due to unbelievably exciting developments in my life, but, while there have been a few moments of success, promise and absurdity, mostly that’s not true; I just take a long time to recover from trips abroad and sometimes do battle with anxiety.
The fact is that I get behind on things, and my head gets turned around in this season, not just by jet lag, but by how incredibly dark it gets incredibly early in latitudes north of New York City. When I’m grateful for all the light in the sky when the sun is setting here before six, you know Europe’s done a number on me.
But, in logistical news you probably don’t care about, I’m headed up to Boston at the end of this week for less than 48 hours and then Patty’s parents will be here for the weekend. In logistical news you’re slightly more likely to care about, I have a contract for something that you’ll eventually be able to read to drop in the mail today, and also have to send a bio in for a thing or two I’ll be speaking at also at some time in the for now unspecified future.
Meanwhile, my guitar playing is still terrible, but full of hope and amusement, and there are a few things of interest off on the horizon so distant it seems indecent to mention them in the dark season. Of course, knowing my life, they’ll actually be here in half a second and splat all over the windshield of my schedule like a bug. I’ll let you know.
But in terms of giving you something to read other than my own attempts to get my head together (new Fluevogs are here, and really, you do not want to hear me wax poetic about the fact that I now own three, yes, three pairs of plaid shoes), I feel nearly morally obligated to post a link to Gregory Maguire’s “Friends of Dorothy: How Gay Was My Oz?” after all my previous rambling about Kurt Hummel and flying monkeys.
Glee, of course, returns from hiatus tomorrow, and if I’ve been silent about a ton of thoughts and theories I have (because Kurt’s clothes are telling us more things this season, and I’m emotional about 3.05 spoilers, and I sort of want to rant at everyone about how narrative requires conflict — three points that both are and are not related), it’s because talking about all that, in lieu of canon actually being revealed through the show (as opposed to leaks, speculations, and that most dubious of news sources, Tumblr), felt a little bit like having a debate with the vague suggestion of a summer breeze.
Even with hefty spoilers, we don’t know what a thing is until we see it, and in the case of the 3.05 frenzy in particular, I’m pretty strident on the fact that we know a lot less than we think we do. So words on all that are coming, but not until I have something concrete to address them to. I’ll warn you in advance that some of those words, even more than usual, are likely to be pretty personal.
But now it’s off to the really important stuff — putting in the laundry and taking Patty to a haunted house.
Letters from Titan 