Lighten Up, Francis

Well, I finally got the Nano site to load (no link today fuckers, there's too many people mucking up your server already) and hit 1838 words on Day 1. Not bad. It went okay. Some flow, some staunched bleeding.

I'm in a pissy mood this morning, maybe because this is some of what I wrote last night:

Like most of the sprawl surrounding Los Angeles, the town I live in used to be agriculture. Where The Valley and Orange County were covered with orange groves, out here, east of downtown, dairy farms and horse ranches were the norm. Slowly, all that free space has been eaten up by developers and demand. The “exurbs” as the demographers have termed these areas, cities risen overnight from the tilled soil, tract homes in pastels and Spanish tile mirroring each other one neighborhood at a time. It can be beautiful when the sky is free of brown haze, blue and promising as it touches the mountains which ring the area. In the winter, when the San Gabriels are dusted with snow, the wind is chill and clear, it’s almost like there are seasons here. People have come in droves, forced away from the city center by blight or cost of living. They’ve fled to this instant community, master plans and parks galore, the promise of a return to their own carefree childhood, when the neighborhood kids played outside free of threats from pedophiles or drug peddlers. It’s an illusion. Chamber of Commerce bullshit. The ostentatious homes, two stories, fetching trim and blooming beds, looming behind block walls. Chain stores of all stripes, DVD players, burritos, power drills. The veneer of success, the American Dream, the smiling façade of Neighborhood Watch and youth soccer. But the streets are bare, young saplings as new as the residents themselves, provide no shade, no escape from the oppressive summer heat. Inside, lions pace in their air-conditioned cages, the kids on myspace or Grand Theft Auto, too bored to think, too stimulated to move. Mom and Dad occupy silent space, read a book, the plot crowded out by cost overruns at the office, Sissy needs braces, interest rates are up. “How was your day?” and it was the same. The fucking same.

It's the Feel Good Hit of November!

I will be avoiding sharp objects for the immediate future.