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Weird Week

It's been an odd week.
Monday: A writer's group meeting that treats my short story perhaps too kindly. I get excellent feedback from Stan! and Jeff. I reread my short story and discover it's not nearly as bad as I feared. Which does not motivate me to rewrite it until I hear from the editor, but still.

Cocktails at the Zig Zag Cafe do not disappoint, except perhaps in the expense. I can recommend the Jasmine (gin and campari), the Delmonico (gin, vermouth, brandy), and the Aviation (gin and maraschino liquer). It's almost as if I like gin. Wait, I do like gin. Lucky me.

Tuesday: I spent the morning as part of a studio audience for the Company Meeting, with TV cameras and "Applause" signs. I feel like I'm just providing the foley track for the global webcast; the meeting itself provides little actual information, though it's slicker than a greased snake in an oil spill. I miss the former method of hosting these meetings, namely stuffing everyone into Safeco Field to watch tiny little CEOs strut on a stage somewhere near second base.

I become a wireless nomad and walk the length of Seattle, checking hot spots on the way. As I approach Jefferson Park on my way to the ball game, I notice that the pigeons have become strangely territorial: they are all standing about two yards from one another, and, my goodness, they're huge. The colors are white and brown and grey, and the rain doesn't seem to perturb them in the least. Passing through the park I suddenly realize that these are all seagulls.

That evening, I go to the ball game and watch the Mariners hold on to beat the Angels. My once-yearly pilgrimage to Safeco is complete after all.

Wednesday: Make some progress on review books, but mostly I'm burned out and watch "Old School". No, I'm not proud, but it's dumb fun with a few honest laughs. Also, the paper copies of "Children of the Rune" arrive at last -- I'm delighted, as the Adobe PDF security scheme used on the electronic versions completely tanked for me on two machines, despite repeated installs, uninstalls, registrations, etc. The Adobe DRM is, frankly, a nightmare compared to the dead-simple Microsoft DRM I haven gotten used to from Reader ebooks. Anyway, I'll finally get to read the whole anthology.
Shelly slow-cooks fantastic pork with port sauce.

Thursday: More brain death. Shelly cooks nice lasagna. Ear infection kicks in just in time for Foolscap this weekend. I am ill enough to actually watch "Survivor". Lacking time to read the CotR anthology until October, I place the author copies prominently on a desk, propped up by bookends. This makes me wildly, irrationally happy. "Look, that's my story in that book. Right over there." Cue the goofy grin.

Tonight, I'm off to visit Foolscap, the small-scale celebration of flat things and funny hats.

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