I keep seeing Junior in different places around the house. All the spots where he liked to hang out. Yesterday afternoon I was sure I saw him looking in through the cat flap at the back door. I think it’s because he was such a creature of habit that I know exactly what it would look like if he were in one of those places. My brain just wants to fill in those details.
I’m nearly done with my editing. I think I have less of 1988 than I thought I did. That is, I have a lot of stuff, but it only covers about half the year. Despite all my complaints about my college schedule, I seemed to have a lot more time to write back then. Of course, no children back then.
I finished with that Portable MFA book. I’m not going to keep it. I have so many other books on writing that were more relevant for me. This only only had one chapter on fiction writing; the rest is on other types of creative writing that I’m not interested in messing with. The irony is that I haven’t even paid for it yet. ha ha. I think I’ll try flogging it on Amazon. Somebody has to find it more useful.
I saw in the paper today that William Shatner won’t be at Con this year after all. “Scheduling conflicts” — though he’s promised to come next year. Not a big deal to me personally, though now maybe I really should buy that shirt from Wil Wheaton’s Cafe Press store – the one with the printed-on name tag that says “Hello My Name Is William Fucking Shatner.” No, it’s not that I don’t like the guy. But if I’d met him, the first thing I’d want to ask is, “Can you get me James Spader’s autograph?” I wonder if anybody will change their mind about coming now that he’s not going to be here.
R seems to be feeling better at last, though I probably shouldn’t even say anything for fear of jinxing it. This morning she got up at quarter after six, but she was cheery and hardly made any fusses at all. And she actually ate a good portion of her breakfast. Long may this last.
This is kind of springy for this time of year, but I felt like it. So.