...but it's not quite ready yet. I'll have full details by the end of this week, I promise!

In the meantime, here are some photos for you:

You know you've made a good girlfriend choice when you sing one of Dick Van Dyke's bits from the Supercalifragilisticexpialadocious song (complete with horrible Cockney accent), and she demands that you sing it to her EVERY DAY, UNTIL YOU DIE.

Internet, meet The Snuggler:





Also, here's a shot of me doing my thing:

...And yet somehow the words don't seem to come like they used to. There is so much that is positive in my life right now, so many good things have happened and will continue to happen, but I feel a bit sad at the moment. When I quit my job and moved to Santa Cruz, I fully expected to spend a lot of time writing. After all, that was the main reason for everything. I've known I was a writer since I was 9. It's simply what I AM, at my core. And yet the words aren't coming.

If I was a superhero, I think my superpower would be "Growing a Beard". I'd rather have "shooting lasers from my eyes" or "x-ray vision" or "neutralizing Richard Simmons", but alas, I get beardy.

I haven't shaved for over a week now, and I look kinda like this:



And I looked like this just last week!



Growing the suspenders was the hardest part.

I have to say that this NaBloPoMoFo thing is making me just a teensy bit competitive. I mean, all of these great writers are sitting around, posting EVERY GODDAMN DAY, and here I sit with my nose in a bushel of photos with "communication with the outside world" just about the farthest thing from my mind.

So while I don't have tons to say, I will give a few brief updates.

- I have not recently spontaneously combusted.

- My entire body (except the toenails) has NOT been consumed by giant slugs.