i am fine.

Spring Break

Finished the last day of classes today and what did I do? Head for cancun? tahiti? palm springs? TJ? hell, even home? nope. Two weeks staying at school, writing.

Fortunately, I will be writing brilliance. Far more brilliant than this, and even more brilliant than that last post, which i think, was quite brilliant. But, I'm writing about that all day, so no writing about that now.

I dont really have anything to say. Personal things are a bit too personal and impersonal things are for other people. Blah Blah Blah. ...

The blognazi (remember him?) thinks he's a high roller. Thinks his blog has made it big and everyone thinks its hot shit. Gives his bloody address when he's hobnobbing with the real journalists and whatnot. Outrageous. Slobnobbing some guy who decided he ought to publish some of his old blog posts in a book. Seriously, write something worth publishing, or stick to web. Why would i buy your shitty book when i could jsut read the posts online? Lame. Oh, and about getting a lot of hits and all that jazz, I say, traffic is traffic -- on the web or on the road -- bad.

That doesnt make a whole lot of sense, but then again, neither does your face.

Heminway told a story once. It was about a guy he knew, a great boxer. He asked the great boxer how he did so well in fights against another great boxer, and the guy responded, "that other guy, hes a great boxer, a real smart one. All the time that he's boxing, he's thinking. And all the time that he's thinking, I'm hitting him."

I like it Ernie. The point is, is that people have taken H's admiration for boxers and bullfighters and whatnot all wrong. I mean, sure, he used it as a metaphor for writing when he called himself the "heavyweight champion of American Literature" and he was damn right. The point is, hes not saying that writing is a male-dominated profession with no room for women. I mean christ, didnt anyone see Million Dollar Baby? No, he was saying that writing is about hitting people, and practicing and using your skills and competinging and not about thinking too much, or using too big or too expensive words. That;s why Hemingway hated the critics, and also why he thought he had beat them. All the while that they were thinking about him and his work and his life and all of his private shit, he was writing simple, truthful, powerful, authentic novels and stories and with each one, was hitting them - the critics, the scholars, the readers, and anyone who bothered to read him. Maybe thats why he hates me, too. But he's dead, so im ok.

Spring break may mean more blogging. Hopefully things will improve.