i think i’m a vampire
So, all that self-help (let’s call it “success literature” — and yes, I do read “success literature”; shut up) says, “Get up early, start your day, blah blah blah.” Well, except for the chosen few which/who say “respect your wiring” (thank God). 
When I started to think seriously about finally going freelance, I said to Leland, “Hrm. I keep thinking of Mr. Wood’s routine of bed-by-9-read-for-two-hours. After I quit, I’m going to try to get up early.”
And Leland said, “Haven’t you always stayed up late?”
“Well, I don’t know. I’ve had this engineering job for ten years and nothing ever stays consistent when one is on call, even when one is not on call. So I really can’t remember.”
“Hrm,” he said. “I really hope you’re not a little vampire. Because that would mean that you’re up when I’m in bed and vice versa.”
“Hrm,” I said.
“Because that would kind of suck,” he said.
Today I didn’t really get down to work until about 4 in the afternoon. Currently, it’s after 2 am. I am not in the least bit tired.
And now it all comes flooding back: watching late night cable with Bee, journaling on school nights until Dad would commence to nagging, the sound of his “time for bed, Bethy” guaranteed to make me want to draw blood (confidential to Dad: it was nothing personal), leaving my light on for as long as I could get away with it, books and flashlight under the sheets, playing possum whenever someone cracked the door open and poked their head in.
Hrm.
This could be a problem.


Sometimes I think of folk songs as these mischievous fae beings, lithesexy watercolor sprites with elf ears and pointy teeth. I say this because they have the power to totally derail any rational but story-obsessed mundane with a rapturous tune, intrigue, and glittering, dreamy promises of a fascinating song lineage just waiting to be uncovered. That is, if one has access to the Internet and a couple of hours to spare.
on the 


In other news, who knew that there was a new 





