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On the walk to work: a colorful selection of merry tulips just opening, little white flowers coming out on grey-barked trees, the tiniest sifting of misty drizzle in the air.
Howard (Waldrop) was at the party at Bruce's last night; first time I've seen him since he moved back to Austin. He's still Howard, our Mr. Waldrop. It was really nice to see him. (He's a big fan of "Nights at the Crimea," which is cool since it's kind of a Waldropian story--he was sad to hear that though I've been paid for it, the anthology it's supposed to be in has fallen off the radar; though he stilled offered to take me out for a celebratory dinner.) Also ran into a woman named Susan who was in the grad fiction program with me and whom I haven't seen for like ten years; her husband was at the SXSW Interactive thingy. It was a pretty huge party, lots of twenty-year-old types and the sprinkling of sf folk. Phyllis and Grant came as my date and had a good time, though someone backing down the street ran into their car; way more damage done to the other car, they just lost a brake light. The other guy lost his rear windshield. I got a few pieces of lovely cracquelered smoked glass for use in a future box. Oh, and Bruce put cat ears on me, which I rather uncharacteristically left on for the duration of my tenure at the party. I think as I approach 40 I'm actually a bit less retiring than at any time previous in my life.
I am useless and have gotten no work of any kind done yet this week, except to mail stuff, but, perversely, I am in a very good mood.
Howard (Waldrop) was at the party at Bruce's last night; first time I've seen him since he moved back to Austin. He's still Howard, our Mr. Waldrop. It was really nice to see him. (He's a big fan of "Nights at the Crimea," which is cool since it's kind of a Waldropian story--he was sad to hear that though I've been paid for it, the anthology it's supposed to be in has fallen off the radar; though he stilled offered to take me out for a celebratory dinner.) Also ran into a woman named Susan who was in the grad fiction program with me and whom I haven't seen for like ten years; her husband was at the SXSW Interactive thingy. It was a pretty huge party, lots of twenty-year-old types and the sprinkling of sf folk. Phyllis and Grant came as my date and had a good time, though someone backing down the street ran into their car; way more damage done to the other car, they just lost a brake light. The other guy lost his rear windshield. I got a few pieces of lovely cracquelered smoked glass for use in a future box. Oh, and Bruce put cat ears on me, which I rather uncharacteristically left on for the duration of my tenure at the party. I think as I approach 40 I'm actually a bit less retiring than at any time previous in my life.
I am useless and have gotten no work of any kind done yet this week, except to mail stuff, but, perversely, I am in a very good mood.
