07/07/00 -- Too tipsy for words
Or much of anything else
Friday. The end of week four. Some part of me didn't
expect to survive this far. But I did.
Fucked if I remember half of what happened today. Or
yesterday. Or the day before. This week has been crazy. This week has
been weird. Up, down, up, down.
We had our critique session this morning. Then, following,
we had Chip's infamous session. The session that had been described by previous
Clarions as something that's destroyed people emotionally. I didn't hear anything I
hadn't already guessed. He said thumbs up or thumbs down about whether or not he
would publish the story of ours that he had read. The story he read wasn't great.
I knew that. I wouldn't've published it even if I had a magazine of my own.
It wasn't publishable. I know.
So that was that. I had fits about t-shirt design (it's the
end of week four -- it's crazy, no one wanted to have much to say until the last minute
and I lost my shit). I went out to lunch with Mark and Jennifer to clear my head.
Olive Garden was okay. I wound up just eating soup and salad and bread
sticks.
Oh, today was Jennifer's birthday, too. :) Happy birthday,
Jennifer! She didn't have dessert, though. I forgot by the end of lunch.
Today wasn't a great day for my head.
Back in my room, I have no idea what I did. I wound up
having dinner downstairs with Jennifer. I gave her "Mockingbird Girl", the
revised edition, after lunch and asked her to take a look at it, see if I'd done anything
good with it when I changed it. She said I'd lost the magic somehow so we were going
to talk about it over dinner.
Buck popped over and joined us there and peeked at
"Mockingbird Girl", too. He had a few suggestions and before Jennifer and
I could really talk about it, Lister brought Beth over and left her with us. Not
wise. :) But we let her escape, this time... :)
We talked about "Mockingbird Girl", finally, while Beth
was talking to a few other folks. Chatted with Beth s'more. Then went back
upstairs. Fucked if I remember what I did up there. Grabbed stuff, went down
to Van Hoosen. Theoretically, I was going to work on a story or something if we
didn't play Mafia. Instead, one of the things I brought with me was the remainder of
my oatmeal cookie from last week, so I got trashed while we talked about, er, well, a
whole bunch of things. And people painted their nails. And folks liked my
finger gauntlet. A few people want it. I don't think I want to know what they
were planning to do with it. It was going to be either dangerous or gross or both.
Drunk and tired, I meandered back to my room and went to sleep.
Did I mention this week/day had been weird and rough?