My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

the bad news is, I have bed bugs. I don’t know how. I don’t know where. Probably something i brought home from the dump because i couldn’t understand why someone would throw it away.

Bed bugs? An antiquated pestilence. As outdated as the desire to be a novelist. About two hundred people a year say thats what they want to do. And they are from developing nations. Just like bed bugs. People today want to be writers. Like me. i want to be a writer. It’s all about the flexibilty in this new economy.

A writer can write parking tickets, customer’s orders, good directions that don’t get you lost, they can write up, they can write down, they can write rongs, write songs, or a jingle or just a verse. Saying you want to be a novelist is like saying you want to explore Antartica by dog sled. We’ll understand. You’re a romantic. You probably want to be a pirate and a robot too. You like to play dress up. But for most people today, they need to be a writer. Understand?

I wonder if blogs are cutting hard into vanity press bottom lines? It used to be rich/obsessive poets/novelists could pay a few hundred bucks and have their work hard covered and shipped in a carton to their door (because no book store would take it?) Imagine how many ideas were lost because of the price barrier to publishing. A couple hundred bucks back then is a thousand today. But we can set up a blog at the library and post to it at work. Fuck it. Don’t cost a dime.

I can blog about my new infatuation with entomology and not need a pesky editor telling me what to do. Blogs are good. But I feel bad for the vanity presses of the world. Will they survive the shakedown?

This whole thing has me stressed out. Bed bugs, not vanity presses. It means I have to put everything I own in a ziplock baggy. Do you know how hard it is for me to use plastic? Not as hard as throwing things away. I watched my hand make the gesture to toss something in the garbage can, but I pulled it back, made the motion to toss, pulled it back, made the motion to toss – i watched my body refuse to throw something away. I am breaking years of training, a whole life philosophy. Reuse is the key element of sustainable living.

What would you do? I took my roommate’s chocolate bar and ate the whole thing. I had the pleasure of stealing and binging. Then, with endorphins spiked, I took the stretch limo out for a ride. If you know what I mean. Drove one handed, if you know what I mean now. Got carsick. Don’t try to think that one through.

But I was more stressed than that. I went and found the box of college days mementos. Glow in the dark juggling balls. A patch from my jacket. Where are they? Clippings from my first lawn mowing job….condom from my first…nope, oh, here they are. My paraphernalias.

I scraped those tarred chambers and smoked them down to the anodized steel. But I didn’t drink, on account of my complexion doesn’t agree to it. That did the trick. I was ready to sort through everything I owned in the world, and throw as much as possible out, bag and seal a little to save…for 18 months, till the eggs were absolutley dead. Bed bug eggs. Lying dormant and invisible in perhaps the pages of The Sun Also Rises – The Sun Also Causes Cancer! – or are they somewhere in the bowels of this cool old wooden radio I have? Probably in both, so I bag them up and take them to my truck. I only have a few baggies. And they’re small. Bed bugs will blow your mind, like thinking about Vikings attacking Native Americans. Really think about that. But the Vikings were Vampires too.

I have bed bugs. Did the neighbor give them to me? My roommates? Or was it me? For legal reasons, I won’t say. But I have my theories. Irrespective, this isn’t going to be a fun summer.