Really? Are we serious now?

John Tesh is on Late Night with Conan O’Brian, human beatboxing and doing the robot. It’s probably the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

Working with Ology is turning into a ton of shit to do and I hope it all works out awesome. I’ve done “editing” before but not at this level, mostly as a hired gun reading other people’s papers and tell them that they spell “nevermore’ wrong and have awkward sentences. Now that we’re down to crunch time, editorial work means phone calls to other editors after reviewing essays and poetry, as I walk to the subway from the office and spending my Saturday indoors reading poetry and short stories when I’d rather have been A) still sleeping or B) not in front of the fucking computer. Lots of meetings on whether or not certina things make it, sometimes choosing the lesser of two evils, and eventually having to do painstaking page-by-page analysis of final decisions while collaborating with the original authors to shape them up for getting sent to the printer. Not a huge deal I’m sure…but shit, I got other stuff to do, and not just the watching TV and drinking kind.

It will be rewarding though to see the final project complete, seeing your name attached to something like that is really cool. Last time I was all a-twitter at being able to claim that not only was I a writer but also an EDITOR. More than just “talent” or a pretty face, I got the skillz to pay da billz, or whatever.

I MIGHT end up with some of my photography in there too, we shall see. It’d be an interesting credit to have honestly, one I never really thought about ever. I mean, I have a Flickr page and i act all fucking artsy and shit sometimes but it’s mostly to pump air up my own ass and show off shows I go to like I’m fucking hip rather than do anything worthwhile, photography-wise.

Don’t forget, Bluestockings @ like 730 pm, tomorrow March 13th. Fun times, stupid stories, and if you’re lucky I’ll make out with a dog. But I make no promises on that front…

I’ve been sleeping a lot better lately, and it’s so fucking sweet. I wish I could have sex with it, if “it” could no longer be an abstract concept and instead be a cute girl.

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About Costa

Writer. College professor.
This entry was posted in beards, best friends, blogging, Bluestockings, Cassie J. Sneider, childhood memories, DIY, events, fiction, freelance, nyc, Razorcake, stupidity, tv. Bookmark the permalink.

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