The year in home improvement

We fixed up our condo this year. Onward with boring photos!

Painted cabinets go a long way.

Ta-da!

The hallway got some treatment

New dishwasher

And a new stove

Willowbrook Road

Took a bunch of photos today of my favorite road. It’s where the climax of At the Slaughter takes place.

Here’s one panorama using Autostitch. And here’s another.

Literary Death Match

Coming soon to Literary Death Match:

Timmy “The Enforcer” Waldron
Word Riot Fiction Editor
Repping Word Riot

Timmy’s stuff is hella funny and he will totally lay the smackdown on any opponent.

Also, Timmy is from Jersey and Jersey triumphs all.

Just saying…

The new version of Sitemeter looks like ass. And you have to be logged in to check your complete stats, even if you set up your account to let anyone view it.

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I’m going to Book Expo America next week. If you see me at Book Expo, high-five me and I’ll give you a nickel. I like giving away money.

Book Expo has this Facebook/MySpace type Web site for attendees. I found it very entertaining for a couple of days. Now I’m indifferent to it.

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My new thing is writing in the super early mornings after work. (I work at home from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m.) I’ve also taken to writing facts on index cards from the non-fiction books I’ve been reading. My brain has atrophed since college. I’m trying to un-atrophy it.

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There are kid-biting, pet-eating coyotes in my old hometown.

Aaron Trammell, The Interview

I interviewed great, big, giant rock star Aaron Trammell about his new album Dignity.

I’m posting the last part of the interview first because it’s the best part. (This was my first attempt at interviewing someone since I was a reporter and there was a requisite amount of awkwardness in the beginning as we tried to figure out what the hell we were doing.)

We don’t really discuss Aaron’s album in this part, but that’ll come soon.

Listen: Aaron Trammell, The Interview - Part 1

-We discuss Red Bank, violence and racism, but in, you know, a fun way. Aaron is actually quite hysterical.

-A couple of curses so file it under “not safe for work.”

Enjoy.

Coming this Wednesday

This is my friend Aaron Trammell.

Aaron is a great, big, giant rock star.

I think Aaron’s first band’s name had the word “troutfish” in it.

I first met Aaron in high school when he harassed me about listening to said troutfish CD, even though we had never met before. He heard that I played the guitar and therefore would like his damned evil troutfish songs.

Aaron was the manager of Clearview Cinemas in Red Bank and was known by man, woman and child in the area as “that guy with the hair who works at Clearview.”

Aaron’s parents live in a house that Vince Lombardi once bought for his own parents. Vince Lombardi is buried in a cemetary in town where a statue known as the Dancing Jesus lies in waiting. I wrote a story titled “Dancing Jesus at the Broadway Diner”; I drew from an incident that happened to Aaron at the Broadway Diner for that story.

Aaron’s coming over for dinner on Tuesday, and I’ve promised him excellent Thai food (though the fact that I’m out of kaffir leaves is causing me great intestinal distress). I’m going to interview Aaron and make a long podcast or several short podcasts out of it and post it/them on Wednesday. I think I’m going to make this a semi-regular feature, using podcasting as an excuse to invite my friends over for excellent Thai food, only to turn around and viciously interrogate them.

Aaron’s very smart and has a new CD out. This is going to be fun.

On the road again

A high school friend, Alex Resiner, took his bi-annual (tri-annual?) road trip across America in October 2006. He has some incredible photographs of the trip and some insight into Americana here.

I’ve always meant to do some sort of road trip but there has never been the time, the money, etc. (Note to self: Figure it out.) The closest I came was in December 2000 when my friend Aaron, my ex-boyfriend Dennis and I made plans to go up to New Hampshire and harass J.D. Salinger. I was going to lure Salinger into meeting us by dropping off a book of Rumi with some clever inscription. (A very crafty young Corley, I was — and by crafty I mean naive and ridiculous.) We had the motel booked and everything but then I got horrible stomach cramps the morning we were supposed to leave (read: turned chickenshit) and the whole thing crapped out.