News at last

Okay, so I finally have some damn news to announce.

First, a sidenote to Mary and Krips: I'm working on a new children's book about a boy with terrible b.o. who saves his school from mashed potato monsters. Start sketchin'!

In more life-altering news...

I had an epiphany three nights ago that kept me up until 4 a.m.

The epiphany came about as such:

I was lying in bed last Tuesday at 1 a.m., replaying random incidents and conversations in my head as I am wont to do, when I eventually stumbled upon the subject of magic. In most cases, when someone learns that I am a magician--or, more accurately, a practicioner of the magical arts--he or she invariably asks if that's what I want to do for a living, what I want to be when I "grow up." And invariably I tell him or her no, that I like magic fine but that I have no real drive or passion for it. In short, it is not what I want to do with my life.

As I lay there, examining that boilerplate response in a semi-conscious haze, I realized something. I've been slamming my head against the wall for two months looking for full-time employment, applying for jobs I knew for a fact would be merely tolerable 40 hours a week just so I could be with my girlfriend, and for my efforts I was reaping nothing more than a constant headache and an ever-declining regard for societal norms. Then it hit me, with all the weight of Huckins' testicles when he teabags me, but none of the subtlety: Magic is not my dream job, but it doesn't have to be. I don't have to love it; I don't even have to like it all that much. I just have to do it. With my experience, connections, talent, and raw sexuality, I have as good a shot as any amateur to make a realistic go at it, so why bust my hump working some desk job I can barely stand for days on end when I can work half as many hours a week doing magic gigs? As blah as I've been about the immediate prospect of every magic show I've ever been hired for, even the most taxing performances were no worse than a typical shift at Shaws or the North Shore Music Theater.

So to sum up: I have decided to become a professional magician in Connecticut. Why? Because why the fuck not. Yeah, I'll have to get a part time job in the beginning to make ends meet since I won't be established or have any local references, but whatever. Just averaging four shows a week will put me in the 25K income bracket, and that won't even include the scratch I'll be pullin' in with a random side job. I'm not lookin' to become rich and famous (not through magic anyway); I just want to be able to look at myself in the mirror every morning and say, "Damn, for someone who doesn't really work out that much, you have great muscle tone."

You hear that "system"? I BEAT YOU. Hell yeah.

P.S. I'll be accepting suggestions for my stage name in the upcoming weeks, so if you've got any good ones, lemme know. (And Smithy and Schollard? I'll be more than a little disappointed if I don't get at least three names from each of you implying my homosexual tendencies and small penis size.) If anyone's too lazy to come up with names themselves, I'll be sending out a mass e-mail next month with all the possible pseudonyms I've collected so far asking each of you to rank your top five.