I submitted my prose adaptation this evening, really and truly hoping it's good enough to get some future work out of it. Some of that stuff was a little tough to adapt for 7-10 year-olds (the naked ninja boy, the girl showing him her ass), but I did my best, and when I felt that it would be too wierd, I just skiped it. I went over it with my friend Paul today, he suggetsed going completely What's Up, Tiger-Lilly? on it and changing the whole story around. What can I say? It's a different culture, but they have very little hate crime in Japan, for what it's worth.
In completely un-related news, I saw my friend Brian and his wife this weekend. I know I've said some bad things about marriage and stuff in the past, but it was good to see him again, and he seemed to really enjoy himself at the Looney Toons Marathon we saw at the Brattle. It seemed like he doesn't get to do this kind of thing very often, so I was glad to help him out with that.
But one thing I couldn't help think about was that, awhile ago, I wrote about why I do the things I do (the pricey haircut, the clothes, the 150 sit-ups, etc.) when no one seems to notice other than my lesbians friends. Well, I think I know now. The other day, Brian mentioned to me that Stacy didn't like the way he parted his hair, so he kind of had this mop thing going. It looked fine. It was just different for him, who used to meticuloulsy brush every hair on his head before putting on a hat.
See, since the dawn of homo sapiens, when cave-dwellers began using fire and manipulating utensils and writing on cave walls, the females of the species told them, "Not in the living room, honey." And so they didn't. That's fine on one hand, because those men needed help, and most men today still do, so I don't blame the women for trying to help guys along. I blame the men for constantly submitting (there's that word again) to them. Fucking write on the cave walls if you want. It's your cave, too. If we all just communicated better, especially about likes and dislikes, I think most relationships would be better and last longer. I mean, maybe I'm crazy because I haven't had a real relationship in five years, but from what I've observed, it just might work.
End of sermon.