alone again, unnaturally

Well I suppose we are all born alone and leave the earth alone, unless we die with a lot of other people in a horrible disaster, but it certainly seems strange to have the house to myself for the next 48 days, Mia has gone to the US and I assume she is presently flying above the Pacific somewhere on QF93 and enjoying airline food and the Cleo and Esquire she bought, also the copy of Death and Life of Great American Cities. Immigration at LA will probably consider that to be a suitable title for a terrorist handbook.

As soon as I got back from the airport I made a list of 47 things I have to do before she returns. Some are small (various columns for The Big Issue) and some are massive (paint the carport, complete my graphic novel). Yes, my graphic novel. Well, I feel like a mediocre academic so I feel I should augment my publication output with something I am genuinely good at, at least according to Toby Dutton, who I blame for this new fad. I have done three pages so far of a projected... unknown, but vast, quantity. It's a graphic novel, right, not a comic strip as was heard (the spirit not the letter) on The O.C. last night. I will post the pages here starting this evening if I can figure out how to do it. I have no idea what it will be about, but nudity and flying dreams have already featured. I am pretty pleased with my drawing, compared to what I usually force out. But it is taking time. I should really be marking, although I have done almost all my marking except the third year subject and I'm still waiting for some of those to come in. Or is that an excuse.