The move across the Bay Bridge has happened, and the three a-holes* and I are busily cozying into the 300 square feet we now call “home.” It’s wonderful, people. I went running the other day (no mean feat as I am in one of the hilliest parts of town), and I ran up Nob Hill, down into Chinatown, then back up the Nob and up the steps of Grace Cathedral. I am smitten. Wow. I cannot fucking believe I live here. It’s so beautiful I don’t know how I’m not dreaming.
I may in fact be. I sleep very poorly. So I’m always tired, and how do I know?
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Anyway, the boxes are all unpacked and I am back at the drafting table. I will have TWO new books out at APE this November. One is Florride, and I’m just now finalizing what will go in that. About half the content is finished, the other is written and doodled, with the complex drawing stages yet to go. There’s a breakup comic. (Don’t we love those?) Some not-so-funnies from the Ranch Clits. A new Debbie story. A Meat Loaf story. And some other things will work their way in, I’m sure. I want to have a new Parrot Cake story but the bitch is not cooperating, we’ll see if I can turn her around.
The other book is a new project, and I am so excited about it I could spit. It’s called The Single Girls, and it chronicles the cruel romantic adventures of some young women not unlike me and my two dear friends, in a big city not unlike San Francisco. It’s gonna be pink. I know, surprise, right?
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Thank you to everyone who attended my opening reception on August 24. You can see pictures here. There is another reception, a closer, on Friday, September 5, at The Compound. Totally come if you’re in the Bay Area, and if you’re not, isn’t it high time you were?
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I have been thinking about church lately. I have never been a churchgoer, but, well, I walk past a lot of churches. And from my old apartment in Oakland, I could hear the gospel choir on Thursdays and Sundays. It was lovely. Seeing the outside of a church gives me such a nice, peaceful feeling. I like to think about God and religion. I find them comforting.
I don’t know why. I was raised agnostic, meaning my parents never said two words to me about religion. When I hit my teen years I had my god crisis like everyone else, but in my case this meant I started to think “hey, maybe there IS a god.” I will not decide or make a declaration as to what I know to be untrue but I do know that I like the singing. I like to think about Jesus. I put a lot of angels in my comics. And a lot of whores.
Moi, je ne regrette rien,
PS. Vote for Obama or you’re a total asshole.