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This is a random excerpt from the unedited book:

My beautiful High Maintenance boyfriend

which can be found at www.daresay.com

At noon, the temperature was seventy nine degrees and climbing; I called my ex-wife and woke her up. This is March, mind you, in San Francisco, the day before my new computer came; I tried to drive off my car battery was dead. Let me back up; a good idea burned my finger, as I unscrewed the light bulb. Here’s how it works: You’re supposed to be somewhere, for something. You struggle against the inner feeling it’s better to stay put, or leave [depending on the circumstances] so this event can occur elegantly. On sabbatical from the crystal palace, I’m awaiting the fruits of its labors, drying out a bit, and there’s an email in my box ... waiting ... I need to read. I’ve unbolted the front seat of my 325e [I once sewed lavishly back together with antique thread] and wrenched it ignobly from the car, in the rain of course, cursing [back a gag reflex] with a deadening flashlight in my mouth. I proceed to fill the thing like a pickup truck, watching my clock all the while, cursing and soaked, umbrella sloped to pour a torrent into my boots ... get in battery dead. What the!!? So I turn the garage upside-down looking for the charger, which is stuck on six volts, requiring ... and so on, until the light bulb burns out, I grab it and turn. Ssssss! FUck!! Oddly like liquid helium, I run outside, a 2+ blister forming, to jam it in a chilly miserable puddle, writhe w/existential doom, as the delivery truck whispers up. Ah, that’s mine, I mention, he smiles. Been waiting for me, he asks ... I wonder if the universe is fucking with me, the planet is maddening ... the blister disappears, as if I never had one. [Light bulb; bright ideas; insights–absorb the metaphor] "Holy shit man, does this happen to you all the time?"

I guess so.

all subsequent posts are live and unedited,

as the story line manifests.