Holli! Pennsylvania! My brother lives there, and it's a train (not a plane) ride from NYC, so I could totally put that on my dance card.
The Great Write Way
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Awesome! I'll tell my teacher.
Heh. "Deb Does The Southwest"We could have dinner...it'd be cool.
She needs a good editor. "fascinating career", "compelling writer's journey" perhaps. Checkered? Nah. I sniff pejorative.
Heh. Hate to say it, but "checkered" would sell more books. (:
That being said, Boston area sounds good. (:
Dude, 'cause if you read at Holli's school, I'll come too.
I would love to read - and do a Q&A - at Holli's school. I'm delicately hinting to the friend at Yale who chairs (I believe she chairs) the creative writing department for an invite, but we shall see. In any case, I love classrooms.
(edit: sorry, my finger hiccoughed, there.)
OK, even I can tell I'm having a hard time coming to the point here...thinking about tattoo stuff brought up other stuff which maybe doesn't belong in this particular thing(I don't even know what it is yet. But here's more of it!)
I get a boyfriend. Finally. He's mostly my ally and my support, but he wants to dress me too. I let my "O'Connell cut" grow out, because that's what gals with boyfriends do, right? Please them with their appearance? He tells me he wants to run his fingers through it, which I think shorter hair would be better for. Uncoordinated fingers might need a shorter trip. But what the hell, it grows like weeds.I suggest he do the same for me, just a little, despite the conviction I now have that my opinions count for squat, and I'd best endeavor to have as few as possible, like gas. He works at a school, he tells me, people wouldn't understand
He starts not to like the person I've become, with the "I don't care. What do you think?" to every question in the world. Which confuses me, cause I thought that was some male fantasy.I'm insecure, confused, and afraid to mix things up in life or my closet. We kiss and have long discussions about "my self esteem problem." One memorable night, we do both at once. He doesn't understand.
Cereal: Deb, check out the new tag. Of course, it's all in the delivery, but I was all moody gal yesterday, so it fit.(He had wet feet and vending machine candy for breakfast.)
How can I not love the tag? I miss Munch, damnit.