"You never update," a friend says. "Seriously. I go, and there's that 'dark vision' picture of a couple of twisted cottonwoods in the bosque, and it's so old it's moldy. You. Need. To. Update."
There's a finger in my sternum as this said. "You need to update." Poke, poke, poke.
I make the mistake of asking what they'd like to see here. "Anything. What's up with the job? What's up with the book? What's up with your life?"
Well, I suppose that's not too much to answer.
My job's great. I still have no problem letting people think that I'm a ninja. I still don't feel like discussing it on teh intarwebs -- I'm not sure if this is because I'm mature, if it's due to the "don't discuss your job" clause in my employment agreement or if I'm just wary of the almighty Google -- but it's a great gig. It's still a complete 180 degrees from my last situation, and that's a good thing. It's still awesome.
The book is now being described as a comedy of manners set in Albuquerque -- with aliens.
Life's great, and that's probably the biggest explanation as to why the site's been decorated with moldy old cottonwoods. I'm busy living.
It's great right now. I expect it to crash and burn at any moment.