I asked an acquaintance from the World Affairs Council to go with me to the book release dinner.  He's an older fella, charming, and always has plenty to talk about.  One of those widowers that flirt with much younger women while, at the same time, talking constantly about his sweet wife. Sweet dead wife, that is.  Yeah, he's 74.

But I really will have fun.

@Karos:  I wish I edited books for a living!  I just did this on the side.

The book I finished editing last month is back from the printer and will be delivered around to local stores, like, NOW.  This is really cool.  The author wants to have a dress up "release party" dinner with me, x, and his wife.  X of course, would have been Frank, but there is no more Frank.  The author told me to go find a date.  He knows that Frank left and thinks this is 1 - a good excuse to find a date and 2 - some subtle reassurance to the wife that all the hours we spent on the book were actually on the book.  (And they were, aside from a little shoulder-crying, as the heaviest of the editing - when we were just storming and writing and editing like crazy) was right in the maelstorm of Frank leaving.) 

So this author's heart is in the right place.  But I got nuthin.'  I can't think of a single soul I could ask as a date.  (Yes, I have gay friends who would be happy to go, but that kind of defeats the purpose of reassuring the wife that I'm keeping my sex drive occupied.)

I want the release party - I've never had one!  I want the idea of the 4 of us celebrating something that the author did and the wife and I helped with.  How très New York, a release party!  How grown-up!  But this is making me fucking depressed.

Both of the older boys agreed to wear their Scout uniforms for the parish directory.  I am dorkily thrilled.  Do you think they'll be scarred for life? 

Now that the world is on facebook, I feel a lot less pressure to perform here on xanga.

And probably more privacy, even in this age of "your employer is watching."

Had a lot of good times on xanga.  Hell, had a whole relationship here once, years ago.

Though I strongly prefer the aesthetics of Blogger, I feel a loyalty here.  And all my STUFF is here.  Plus, as anyone would agree, "xanga" is a way cooler name than "blogger."

Holy cow, is this book good.  I read it all in one sitting.  It's hard to know how to describe it, because any description of the conditions or events of this book will surely turn you away. 

Let me say this:  it is one (delightful, strong, poetic, hopeful) girl's story of survival, from Africa to London, and another (fearful, courageous) woman's story of survival from corporate life to marriage to end of marriage.  And Batman.

I feel like I could handle most of the plates I have spinning in the air if I had just...one...clean...room in the house.  One perfectly updated, decorated, not-even-dust-in-the-window well clean room.  And then, if I had TWO, well I could start going to grad school or something.  It's a psychological weight, the cluttered house.  Financial clutter was even greater, and I thank God every day I can see a light somewhere to be (other than the mortgage) debt free. 

Of course, that's on the other side of the legal costs of our current visitation / child support shit, but that's another story.  And not even an original or interesting one.

I make stabs at cleaning/organizing, but it seems like no matter how many boxes I haul off to Goodwill or garbage, I'm not seeing great big empty rooms.  Stab harder, I guess. 

Maybe I should focus on one clutter SUBJECT a month, rather than one room a month.  I know what my categories are:

Toys, Clothes, Books/Movies. Unfiled / sorted paperwork.

Hey.  I'm feeling pretty good about this.  This could work. 

Attention mis-matched playing cards, puzzles and board games missing pieces, and all you action figures missing limbs:  your days are numbered.  You too, outgrown baby toys.