Vylar Kaftan

Lydia’s Body is published.

Nine Thousand Four Hundred Ninety-Four Days, which first appeared at Abyss & Apex, has been translated into Spanish and appears in the current issue of Axxon. I love the illustration by Sue Giacoman Vargas. She translated it too, although I can’t read it myself. I know just enough Spanish to get myself in trouble, like selling pizza coupons in small-town New Mexico. Er, that’s another story.

Every year, Shannon and I make our own Christmas cards.  Neither of us are great artists, but we sure have fun doing it.  We buy a bunch of stickers, stencils, glitter, cardstock, glue, and so forth… and go nuts.  Some of the cards are pretty, but mostly we just go for the surreal.  My favorite way to make cards is to combine Christmas stuff with non-holiday themes.  This year, we bought stickers with sharks, medical equipment, Scrabble tiles, “family values” slogans, and inspirational quotes for marathon runners.

I started yesterday. So far, my creations include:

• a shark eating Santa (with the slogan “The world of achievement has always belonged to the optimist.”)

• Christmas sperm in festive colors, with a google-eyed egg

• a holiday fruit basket that says “Just Add Kids”

• Santa entering a porn star’s chimney (”If what you’re working for really matters, you’ll give it all you’ve got.”)

Merry Scrabblemas!

The Nietzche Family Circus.

I think it’s an improvement.

Shannon and I agreed we wanted to cut our expenses, so we’ve been looking for a new place to live. It’s frustrating because we love our current place. All the other options look worse, but at least they’re cheaper.

Mostly the process isn’t very interesting. We find listings, ask questions over the phone, and sometimes go see the place. We’ve applied for two places right now, so perhaps our search is nearly over. It’ll be a relief to make a decision.

I’ve seen bizarre and strange apartments all over the East Bay area. But the funniest thing I saw was a place out in Castro Valley. It was a third-story apartment in a building that looked like it would fall sideways in a moderate-level quake. It stood right next to an off-ramp on the freeway. But the best part was the driveway. Due to one-way streets and a road barrier, the only way to get to your own driveway was to get on the freeway, drive to the next exit down, and take side streets back to your neighborhood.

No wonder it was so cheap.

Here’s a question that’s been troubling me.

It’s about the red rubber nose gene, most commonly seen in the North American clown.  Is the gene dominant or recessive? If it’s dominant, why aren’t there more clowns?  If it’s recessive, might I be a carrier of this gene, at risk for birthing a clown baby?  And is it linked to the big floppy shoe gene?  Or are clowns a natural mutation–and are they sterile, like mules?

Science never answers questions I care about.