Stacy Horn

Okay.  I’m ready.  I’m going to start working on the hardest music in the world.  Wish me luck. I’m going in there.

Except I’ve been working since the moment I got up.  Must.  Stop.  Now.  No, really.  STOP.  I’ve got a backlog of tv to watch and this week’s People Magazine.  Important stuff!

Oh and Valentine’s Day.  Yeah, yeah, yeah.  You love me Buddy, don’t you?  (Buddy is the cat on my lap at the moment.  I will query Finney later.)

This is some bench I passed a week or so ago and thought was pretty, the way the red was coming through the flaking paint.

I saw this tribute in a window on my way home yesterday. They’ve kept this in their window for six years.  I’m not criticizing.  I know how strong your love for your pets can be. RIP, Pokey.

I was on my way home from finding “dress sneakers.” I’m limited by what I can wear on my feet, and usually go for attractive sneakers.  As soon as I get something I ordered in the mail I’m going to post a picture of the clothes I bought for my book appearances next month.  I was extremely limited budget-wise and I think I did really well with almost nothing!

But I made a video for my book.  I’ll pretty much do everything to sell this book.  You work for years on something and then you’ve only got a few weeks to get it to catch fire and sell.  If that doesn’t happen bookstores take it off the shelves and return it to the publisher and move on to the next batch of new books.  It’s the hard cruel facts of book-writing life.

I had fun making it, I just wish I knew more.  And I had such problems with the sound.  It was so troublesome I kept bad takes in because if I did another take for one section it would sound very different than the next section and … this is boring, isn’t it.  I’ll stop.  Anyway, my book should hit the shelves sometime next month.

(I’m also posting this to the blog I set up for Unbelievable, so forgive me people who will be seeing this twice.)

Television sets.  The streets are littered with them.  They served us so well and we just cast them aside.  Poor guys.