I can't beLIEVE how many people in New York are wearing "I survived the Blackout of 2003" t-shirts. For one thing, would there ever be a case where someone could wear a t-shirt saying they DIDN'T survive it?

Yeah, I know, it's all in good fun.


Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work.

Hurricane Fabian actually is on a track that could one day include us. Check out the graphic.


UPDATE: Fabian has already been upgraded to a hurricane. Yesterday, it was only being called "Tropical Storm 10." The winds must have really whipped up. Will it glide north? Will it head toward Texas, or actuall bump along the Eastern U.S. and strike us? Or will it dissipate? Time will tell.
Valerie writes: It's nice to see someone get excited about hurricane season also.
I grew up in Long Beach, Long Island and I think the highlight of every summer for my father was that one day when we had to tape the windows with big x's because a hurricane was coming up the coast.
We're entering the key part of hurricane season, but so far the only potential threat seems too far south, for now. You never know though.
The following just transpired at my office.
GUY OUTSIDE MY DOOR: Is everything all right?
ME: There's a photo on the internet of Britney Spears and Madonna French-kissing!
OTHER MALE CO-WORKER: What do you mean, 'Ewww'?
Two men run into my office.
ONE: That's full-on tongue! What led up to that?
TWO: Can you play the film?
(This apparently happened at the MTV video awards last night).
Here's the link, for all you guys out there. But I suspect this is already halfway to becoming Old News.
J. Robert Lennon's new book The Mailman should be out by now. He's a wonderful writer and also was kind enough to like and blurb my book. Check out his webpage, why doncha?


Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.

It will probably happen again soon.


Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

I haven't put a link to my homepage up here for a while, so here it is. All kinds of stuff there.


Legal counsel Jeff H. writes: "the answer re pennington = pre-season games mint money. there is also definitely something to the idea that live action against non-teammates sharpens timing pr-season, but... big time sportswriters are asking the same q, and have been before pennington and a bunch of other stars got hurt."
At Tuesday Night Team Trivia, we always read off the team names and their scores. One of the team names got a big laugh tonight. The team name was "Every time you mastrubate, God kills a kitten." I could barely get the word "kitten" out when I read it, and there was prolonged laughter. Then a woman yelled out, "Everyone put your hands on the table," causing more laughter. And to cap it off, Nick, a player who comes regularly and who is blind, yelled out, "That's not how I became blind!" Which resulted in another few minutes of laughter.

That, I think, is one of the biggest selling points of playing. You may not always win a prize, but hopefully, you always get to laugh.
Getting back to the discussion of "most irrelevant pop song," Lori G. submits "MmmBop" by Hanson. (By the way, one of the Hanson kids now has a kid of his own.) MmmBop is definitely in the running if you consider the lyrics:

>>Plant a seed, plant a flower, plant a rose
You can plant any one of those
Keep planting to find out which one grows
It's a secret no one knows
It's a secret no one knows

In an mmm bop they're gone, in an mmm bop they're not there
In an mmm bop they're gone, in an mmm bop they're not there
Until you lose your hair
But you don't care

Mmm bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du bop, ba duba dop
Ba du
Someone wrote in to say "poor Caren" regarding the "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" story, implying that I wrote it for sympathy. That's silly. It was simply meant to be a junior high slice of life. It was not the worst thing that happened then, just an example of the mentality of middle school.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

My favorite blog is here. Its author, gen-x writer Ian, has been on his honeymoon, so each member of his family has taken shifts writing his daily entries for him, and they're a pleasure to read.
I think I just eradicated the SoBig worm on my computer, so if you attend okeefanokee university and don't know me, I don't think I'll be sending it to you anymore. i apologize about all the other times.


Instead of complaining that other people aren't adding to their blogs, I could write my own. Let's see. Which childhood memory should we dredge up today for our amusement? I've been meaning to write the "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" story.

In eighth grade, we moved to a really snobby town. Middle school is hard enough without that. Anyway, for several weeks, the homerooms competed in a music contest. Each morning, the music teacher went to the office and played a snippet of a popular song over the PA system. Each homeroom sent their guess for which song it was to the front office.

My class was one of those in the lead, thanks, in part, to a kid named Jim who was in the band and chorus and knew a lot of songs. But one morning, they played a snippet of a Billy Joel song. Most people agreed that it was "Big Shot." Since I had played a lot of Billy Joel songs for my piano lessons, I was pretty sure I recognized it as the less-well-known "Say Goodbye to Hollywood." But should I say something? Opening my mouth in school at all generally got me picked on. Jim wrote down the pick and gave it to April, our elected class representative (and one of the most popular girls in school) to bring to the office.

I made a quick decision and said, "April! It's not 'Big Shot.' " I told her what I thought the song was. Then, I saw the girl in front of me, who was unpopular and very nice, look at me, scared. Another girl looked at me, too, her eyes wide. April and Jim changed the name of the song to "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" on our answer sheet, and as April left the room to deliver it, the girl in front of me said to me, "You better be right." She knew that if I'd screwed up our homeroom's chances, I'd be a goner. Particularly with the way I'd called out.

I was scared to death, too. What if I was wrong? Why had I spoken up anyway? If I'd kept my mouth shut, I would be just fine. But I took a risk. I kept remembering what I'd done for the rest of the day and being scared. I assured myself I'd heard right, but there was no way to be 100 percent certain.

The next morning, we found out that it was, indeed, "Say Goodbye to Hollywood," and we were probably the only homeroom that got it, and we stayed in the lead. We might have even won a pizza party in the end; I can't remember. I didn't get thanked, but I knew I wouldn't -- I was just glad not to get picked on.

If I had it to do over again, I probably wouldn't have taken the risk. I don't know what motivated me to call out on that particular day. But I think the most interesting part, and what I remember most, is the two girls looking at me scared, knowing what a real risk it was -- a risk just because I opened my mouth and said something essentially meaningless to a popular kid.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.
I just rented "Kramer Vs. Kramer." It tangentially relates to something I'm writing. (I know; I use that excuse for everything.) I knew the video store cashier would have something to say about this. He did. He was a kid who probably wasn't even born in 1979. " ' Kramer vs. Kramer,' " he said, looking at it. "They used to talk about this all the time at the other store where I worked." I told him I hadn't seen it since it was in theaters and I was eight. "I want to find out who wins," I said. Didn't get a laugh.

Blockbuster is planning to sell off all their videotapes, one of their cashiers told me a few weeks ago. It's odd how things pass into obsolescence before you even realize it. It reminds you how old you are. All of a sudden -- boom -- you realize you haven't heard a busy signal on the phone in years and the TV doesn't take a minute to warm up anymore.


Just got back from seeing a Sublime tribute band perform down the block. It's not summer unless I get to hear "Santeria" in a crowd at least once. The last two years, it was in Delaware. So I figured it would make more sense to go eight blocks away from me.

They started late, so first, I got to watch Chad Pennington break his wrist live on TV. And then see them announce 10 minutes later that he'll be out for six to eight weeks. Knowing next to nothing about sports, I would like to ask why the most important players are put in these games that aren't part of season play, when they can hurt themselves before the actual season. I know it may seem like a dumb question, but I honestly don't know the answer, so please explain.

Speaking of explanations, Mickey, a reader, has this to say:

"The dead guy is of the Philadelphia Chemical Ali’s. The one they just caught is of the New Haven Chemical Ali’s. Same name different branch of the Chemical Ali's family"

Oh. Whew!! I thought our gov't just lied to us again.


I have been trying to simplify my life over the past two weeks. For most of the summer, there wasn't a day when I could go straight home from work and relax. Every day was a trip into New York for some event or other, except for days I had to stay at work until 7 or 8. The first month of summer, I was doing book-related things all day and night. I had to -- you only get one first novel. After that, there was just lots of assorted busy-ness. So recently, I had to start saying "no" to some things. Some might see this as proof that I'm like my character, Carrie, who wants to sit in her room all day, but the truth is, I barely had a chance to be home at all, and I was exhausted. With less on my plate, I have time to cook myself a meal at home and even clean up around here. I even got to read a novel last weekend -- something it seems like everyone has time for except me, even with me being a writer at all. I can even take the odd spontaneous walk in the park.


No, I didn't imagine it. The government DID tell us that Chemical Ali was killed months ago. Surprise, surprise. Is Mrs. Anthrax still on the loose? The New Yorker had a funny page of cartoons of villains a few months ago with names like Captain Cholera on it.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work, drank water.

Is there a "Jump the Shark"-like website for songs? Not about them Jumping the Shark, but maybe where people can pick apart all the stupid things in songs. For instance, in the New Kids on the Block song "Tonight," they at one point sing, "We met a lot of people...and giiiirls." Aren't girls people? Also, one could complain about certain songs that sound strangely like other songs. If anyone knows of a site like this, let me know. Otherwise, a new blog will have to be created. I have the perfect name for it, too.


I guess it wasn't Brad T. who submitted "MacArthur Park." He writes: "The only version of 'McArthur Park' I've ever heard is the Weird Al parody 'Jurassic Park.' "
One of the headlines on the internet today is "U.S. says Chemical Ali captured in Iraq." I know I distinctly read that he was killed months ago. I don't remember reading the word "probably." I guess I imagined it.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work, drank water.


I've gotten lots more suggestions for the most irrelevant pop song. I don't necessarily agree with people who are suggesting various songs about dancing and boogieing (? boogying? booging?), because it is actually quite relevant for a dance song to be about dancing. But Brad T. suggests "MacArthur Park," which definitely can rank up there with "Kung Fu Fighting."

Meanwhile, Mr. Malice writes: "Pop Muzik was one of the first synth hits (1979), one (if not the) earliest New Wave songs and is about pop music being an end in itself. It is, as you said, highly relevant.
Anyone who says otherwise is obviously an idiot who knows nothing about the history of pop."

Well, I'm glad my blog finally tackled a tough issue. I'll close the topic for discussion now, as I can see that this will take time away from getting up, getting dressed, going to work, and drinking my eight glasses of water per day (note subtle introduction of new plot line!!!)
Night, folks.
Owen T. votes for: " 'Everybody Have Fun Tonight' by Wang Chung. That's the one that also boasts the line, 'Everybody
Wang Chung tonight.' Sheesh."
Well, we have our first response, although I could argue that this song is HIGHLY relevant. R.S. Farley writes:

"Okay, I have this song on a 45 record (remember those?)
It's called Pop Musik by "M", 1979
Now I have the song in my head. Here are the lyrics:
Pop Musik
Get up...
Get down...

Radio, video
Boogie with a suitcase
Your livin' in a disco
Forget about the rat race
Let's do the milkshake, sellin' like a hotcake
Try some buy some fee-fi-fo-fum

Talk about, pop musik
Talk about, pop musik....
I'm going to start a contest. Tell me what the most irrelevant song in the history of pop music is. I'm thinking it's "everybody was kung-fu fighting." I've been told it's not secretly about anything -- it really WAS just about kung-fu fighting. There's that "Convoy" song, too. But if I say they were all in the '70s, that might be prejudiced. The "Curly Shuffle" was in the '80s.

Oh, you win nothing.
A family member (who shall be nameless) and I were discussing dating yesterday. (I mean, the IDEA of dating -- not dating each other!!)

"People aren't normal these days," he said.

"Can you elaborate on that?" I asked.

"You used to be able to go out and have a good time and call someone the next day. Now it's three days, five days...people say they don't play games, and the reason they say that is because everybody DOES!"
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.

At trivia last night, co-host Tony's wonderful audio round was songs by artists who had "X" in their name. For one of them, a team guessed "Elvix."


Woke up, put on clothes, didn't go to work. Went to Freehold to participate in a Barnes & Noble discussion on my book. It was nice to be back among the farms. New Jersey IS beautiful, no matter what they say.

What's weird as a writer is hearing someone praise or quote a passage of the book that you think needs more work or is flawed. You smile on the outside, cringe on the inside. Anyway, it was a nice discussion, and there was even participation from longtime family friends.


A reader writes: Imposter! Who are you and what have you done with Caren!? The Caren I've grown to know and love would NEVER cheat with a "yada yada yada". Caren would always say "Woke up, put clothes on, went to work"... but now you have changed. "Woke up, put on clothes, went to work" is simply not acceptable. You have shown your true colors, you imposter! Caren would never "put on clothes", she "put clothes on". That and the fact that the blog has been much more chatty than ever before proves you must be an imposter. I'm on to you buddy! You WILL be exposed.
Aloha, Sam
I had not realized that Eddie Rabbitt was dead. First Skip Stephenson, and now this.
Yes, I evoked Eddie Rabbitt to be kitschy.
Woke up, etc., yada, yada, yada.


"I love a rainy night." -- Eddie Rabbitt

There were some beautiful cloudscapes before.
Mickey, a reader, writes: "I just read the blog update. Wow! I can’t believe that you are writing porn! But there it is by your own admission triple x rated porn. “Once I've written through all the places that have "xxx" in them and "fill in here," and expanded and shaded in the description and characters and cut and added, there are still a few boring scenes that are there now to explain what's going on that eventually will just be dead weight.”

He gave me some porno sentences to add here, but I know it's a sunny day out and no one wants to be inside reading such trash.
Woke up, got dressed, didn't go to work. Working on novel 3. As much as I play with it, it still seems like I'll need at least another year to finish. Once I've written through all the places that have "xxx" in them and "fill in here," and expanded and shaded in the description and characters and cut and added, there are still a few boring scenes that are there now to explain what's going on that eventually will just be dead weight. It'd be nice to have something finished soon, but one of the things you come to realize after being published is that if you really want to make your creation as good as it can be, do everything you can BEFORE you hand it off, because once it's on that conveyor belt you won't have ages to refine it anymore.


I re-set the clocks, you'll be pleased to know.
An inventory of the times on the clocks in my house.

1. Caller ID: 2:55 a.m. Probably correct.
2. CD/stereo system: 11:26 a.m. Behind due to power outage.
3. Digital in room: Still unplugged from when I put a 9V battery in during blackout and it didn't work.
4. Clock radio/VCR: 2:55 a.m. Probably correct.
5. Battery-powered clock in middle room: 2 a.m. Never adjusted after Daylight Time switch; too high on wall.
6. Digital in middle room: 8:09 a.m. Behind due to power outage.
7. Battery-powered clock in kitchen: 9:45 p.m. Battery ran out months ago; rarely looked at.
8. Cool 1971 plastic-flipping-numbers digital: 10:05. Behind due to power outage.

In the time I took to write that, I could have set all the clocks. Oh well. Priorities.


I was unaware of this, but apparently, a lot of New York is still without power. A college friend of mine is actually coming from NY to New Jersey to have dinner with me! No one ever reverse-commutes like that. We were supposed to eat in the Village, but there's no answer at the restaurant. Yay, yay, I made someone come to Jersey.

None of the TV stations are working except CBS.
Almost forgot -- woke up, got dressed, went to work...even though all the clocks are 11 hours behind. Except for my battery-powered clock. That one's only one hour behind, because it's so high up on the wall that I couldn't climb up to change it during the last Daylight Savings Time.
You are listening to continuing coverage of blackout '03.

I got the Daily News. "BLACKOUT," is their headline. I have to come up with something different for our papers today. The Post and Times haven't come out yet. I love historic newspapers. When I was a kid, I hid the Iranian hostage release under the den couch for weeks, but eventually it disappeared. The idea to actually put it in a drawer didn't occur to my eight-year-old mind.
Shoot, if any newspapers came out today, they will sell out quickly. Better mosey across the street and get some for posterity.
...but, I said nothing about pictures. I probably will post mine in a day or two. Since these are pictures of a blackout, don't expect much that's riveting.
Power came back on at 3 a.m. Agh -- eleven hours without the internet!!

I hope we won't have to listen to people's boring blackout stories for the next week.


Oh, boy! My book has just been added to the public library of the state of Tasmania.
I might get to work on a screenplay this weekend that I've been wanting to get back to for over a year but didn't have the time. It's an important story to me, but it's also fun.
A reader writes: "I had a really goofy question for you... Was becoming a published author with book signings and the lot what you expected? Did it change your life for the glamorous???"

Yes. And no.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.


Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.
What was worse about this summer -- the weather, or the movies?

Tonight, on the way to trivia, I passed a guy who was wearing a shirt reading, "I SURVIVED AP HISTORY, 1995." It always amazes me when I see people who are actually nerdier than I am.

Tonight's top team name: "Arnold to Arnold: 'What you talkin' 'bout, Arnold.'

Thanks to all who tried to cheer me up about feeling bored with myself.


Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.


Over the rainbow: Even though it's been sunny all day, there was actually a rainbow outside around noon. I've never seen a rainbow when it was sunny before. It wasn't exactly a full bow -- more like a band, right at the top of the sky. I looked around, but no one else seemed to think it was all that. It reminded me of college, the day I was walking over the arched Locust Walk bridge, watching behind me because there was a beautiful rainbow across the sky. Most of the students, in their backpacks and frumpy shirts, were simply staring at the ground as they walked and didn't seem moved. I looked around. Didn't anyone care that there was a beautiful rainbow in the sky? Then, I saw Sloane, the campus gay activist, and he smiled at me. "Rainbow," he said.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.
I am apparently far from the only person to write a parody of "Cleanin' Out My Closet." There are about eight of them on this song parody site. Some are actually funny.


I'm just tired and bored with myself.
Woke up, got dressed, didn't go to work.


Esquire has decided not to have Jayson Blair review the Stephen Glass movie after all. They didn't want people to know about it until it came out. (Sheah, right.) The advance media attention made them change their minds. Here's a link to the story.

I'm looking forward to the movie. Glass was a year behind me in college in Philly. I have no lame stories about him to whip into a 2,000 word essay as some people have done. Sorry. Nor did I ever meet Monica Lewinsky. Sorry again.


I erred a few days ago. I got the cannoli at Cosmo's, not Carlo's. Carlo's, known for their cakes, is also good. On another note, I'm anticipating a hurricane before the month ends. If we start hearing about it, make sure you tune into the blog of my barometer for odd anticipation.

I have to finish revisions of book 2 this weekend, as per editor's suggestions. I will be happy to put finishing touches on it and ship it off. This fall, I'll be continuing work on the third book, which takes place in fall...I usually have to work on books in the season in which they take place. It's just how I am. It's hard to write in summer, anyway. More of my books are fall books than summer books.
One of the frustrating things about the internet is that there are so many sites, but so few are good reads. However, if you want to be entertained by a real writer who doesn't constantly blog about politics, check out The Inner Swine. Hoboken neighbor Jeff Somers lets us know just how he feels, and (as I've written before) there's a bit of Somers in all of us. He's also got a short story coming out in the upcoming issue of the Portland Review, and he's got two books, including Gen X tale of intrigue Lifers.
Here at the newspaper, we get "pets of the week" from two different animal rescue groups. One works with the local shelter and the other finds foster homes for animals. We put a pet in the paper each week in hopes someone will adopt him or her.
This week, I got a photo of a pet and put it in. But then our art director got one from the other group. She asked if we could put in their pet instead, and hold off on the one I got.
"No," I said. "This pet could be dead by next week!"
"Hmmm," she said.
"Why don't we hold the OTHER pet for a week?" I asked.
"Because then THAT pet could be dead!" she said.
We put in both pets.

I've been whistling the "Silver Spoons" theme. Most people here don't know what I'm whistling. I think our intern wasn't BORN in 1982.
Last night I went to the Museum of TV and Radio to see some Gen-X TV sit-coms they were showing. Even though I loved these shows as a child, they were, at times, excruciating to watch. But the timely references were great. On "Silver Spoons" (1982) Ricky Schroeder told his millionaire father that he knew all about computers. He said, "Does your computer have Random ACCESS Memory, or Read ONLY Memory?"

Ah, to be back on technology's cutting edge.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.


It has now been about 29 hours since I ate the cannoli. I remember when it was first handed to me, full of powdered sugar on waxed paper. It was a good cannoli.
This review is posted on AMAZON regarding Confederacy of Dunces:

A Confederacy of High School English Teachers, July 28, 2003

Reviewer: A reader from Not New Hampshire

This is a wonderful book, the discussion of which, up to this point, has been quite enjoyable. However, if you're the English teacher at a preppy New England boarding school, in the future please refrain from having your ENTIRE CLASS of trust-fund dolts post their endless, pointless, insipid, identical reviews on this site, okay? While I'm certain they are VERY special and represent some of our nation's finest families, no one comes to here to be subjected to 25... book reports. Thanks.

What's funny is that I read some of the "book reports," and they call the book "The Confederacy of the Dunces" and make mention of winning the "Pulitzer Prized." I guess the trust funds weren't high enough.

I like the Black Eyed Peas' new song, Where Is the Love, except for the fact that for a song against prejudice, it says something pretty prejudiced in it. "Wrong information always shown by the media..." they sing at one point. People often forget, when they blame "the media," two important facts: 1. It's often the media who are protecting you by being the only folks to be pressing for the truth when everything and everyone else is funded and controlled by the government (duh), and 2. "The media" consists of thousands and thousands of often-young, idealistic people who got out of college and took a low salary so that they could learn about government and what's going on in the world and write about it -- and they can't all be grouped into one category. For every Jayson Blair, there are 1,000 cub reporters doggedly hanging around a City Council meeting holding a politician's feet to the fire on why he gave his cousin a $1 million accounting contract. Let's think about the "duct tape" controversy. What happened there was that the government had raised its terror alert, no one really knew how to react, they kept pressing for more information or something they could do, so the media asked gov't officials and found someone who suggested buying duct tape. That had nothing to do with the media wanting to "create" fear or a scandal; it was a media reacting to the public's lack of information and trying to find something when the gov't was being less than forthcoming. The media doesn't try to create bad news. Anyone who works at a newspaper will tell you that it's 10 times easier to write a feature on granny's 100th birthday than to keep calling someone who doesn't want to talk to you about an investigative piece. When you blame the media, consider how many people you're blaming, and how much they do for you every day whether you know about it or not.

The only scary thing is how many newspapers are being joined and condensed these days. Every time we lose a newspaper, we lose a little bit of pressure on our gov't to be honest. The loss of dailies has strengthened weeklies (like the chain I edit), but that doesn't mean we shouldn't have plenty of both. Unfortunately, some newspapers lose money, and they can't exactly get government grants like maybe your business does.

One more thing I'd like to say is that the media doesn't focus on "bad" news, as the Black Eyed Peas imply by saying that we show the same images over and over. We show evocative images, sure. But the more we wake people up, the more we can prevent tragedies from happening again. If you'd like us to start reporting every safe landing of an airline so that when one crashes you'll know it's a rare thing -- rather than just focusing on the crash and why it happened and how to stop it from happening again -- you just let us know. I don't think the media should spend its few resources covering every safe landing at the airport.

UPDATE: Faithful blog reader Brad writes:
You defend the media and its eager cub reporters so much, but you fail to mention that the media is a business, and like so many businesses, it boils down to money. As Robin Quivers says, "Anger and fear sells". So the media prints shock-value headlines (some media outlets are worse than others) in order to tempt people to buy the paper and see their advertisements. They don't lie outright, but they certainly color the facts for a particular agenda (whether economic or political). Your paper isn't affected by this concept because it's free. For proof of this concept, see the movie "The Insider" with Al Pacino.

It's true that SOME media outlets print shock headlines, but that's my point. They don't ALL do so. If you judge "the media" by what SOME of them do, then that's unfair. I e-mailed Brad and told him that, and he still said there are people at the top who want power and money, and they make decisions like "Hire Jayson Blair." True. But when criticizing the media, remember all the good they do. And most of the Times reporters are doing the best they can with what they have. As for "The Insider," the journalist did his best to expose big tobacca. Nobody else did. And such a story being squelched is the exception rather than the norm -- which is why it's in a movie. Where is the love?

Yesterday, I wrote a song parody about work. It's at www.carenlissner.com/keyboard. Feel free to forward the link or song to friends who are in an office right now.
Woke up, put on clothes, went to work.


Today's Freudian copyediting slip I had to correct: "Mother-in-lawn."

Too many posts today, eh? Blame it on the cannoli.

Is this a joke? Today's two New York Post cover stories are "RATS TAKE OVER FIREHOUSE" and "HAWK ATTACKS DOG." Do they mean in New York, or Bizarro Cartoon World?
I'm already reminiscing about the cannoli I ate an hour ago. Man, that was a good cannoli.
I finally fixed the problem with my archives, so now you can read everything ever published on this site, from its humble beginnings when I used to write "Woke up, put clothes on, went to work" every day through the middle when I used to write "Woke up, put clothes on, went to work" every day.
Feeling down? Start your day with a chocolate-covered cannoli from Cosmo's Bakery in Hoboken.
Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.


Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.


Update: Someone asked him what he actually thought of "Gigli." Here's his response.
Is Kevin Smith worried about the atrocious reception "Gigli" is getting and how it might affect (Afflect) his own Ben & Jen movie, "Jersey Girl," due out in February? Of course not, he says in a message board post.
Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.


Woke up, put clothes on, didn't go to work, worked on third novel. The last two photos of upstate New York are up on the page.


"Ho hum." -- My boss, five minutes ago.
Second photo from my brief road trip to Upstate New York.
Woke up, put clothes on, went to work.