Well, if you're expecting a travel log description of AZ don't read this. I haven't seen much outside of the hotel, which is pretty nice actually, and the Tarjay down the road. I had to stock up on Pepsi and Chex Mix.
It is a pleasant 65 degrees here though.
I got on the plane at 7:20 am this morning--early flights should be outlawed. Flew 40 minutes to my connecting flight and then sat on the tarmac for an hour. Two things I hate--sitting on a plane while it's not moving and escalators, big escalators. They had these big escalators at the Phoenix airport. I opted for the elevator. Strange, I' m not afraid of heights but high escalators freak me the hell out.
I finished my trashy novel way too early in the flight, 3 hours left with nothing to read. It sucked. I snoozed.
The hotel room is more like an apartment, not posh, but large. I could have a party in here if there were people here I wanted to have a party with.
The dinner was fine. I would venture to say that I'm one of the youngest people here though.
I did try Diserona--I'm sure that's not the correct spelling. You've seen the commercial--the hotty bar tender is serving everyone Deserono? Diserona? in various ways and then the girl comes up and orders it on the rocks and sucks the ice cube. It was quite tastey but I didn't suck the ice cube and the bartender was about 100 years old.
I find it quite odd and somewhat unsettling when people I don't know come up and say hello because they recognize me from my job. Strange. Before I took over this job and they wanted to put my picture in the publication I felt weird, but now that it's in there every month I feel even more exposed. I was never one of those writers who wanted to be recognized, I'm so much better behind the scenes. Some day when I write my incredible novel I want IT to be well received but I don't like being in the limelight at all.
I always thought it would be cool to be an interviewer like James Lipton or Charlie Rose, but they're on TV and I'd hate that.
Also, I'm working on a laptop and think I need to have one of these things. I like the way it sounds when I type.
I also hate when I'm at these type of things and people tell me something followed by, but that's off the record! Don't fucking tell me something that I can't write about, it does me no good. I like knowing stuff but if I can't write about it, really, what good does it do me?
Curious to see how the rest of this little conference plays out and what I'll get out of it.
Tuesday at home should be fun. It's movie night for school and the Hubs is taking the Girl and the Boy. Catcher here is that the Boyfriend will be there and the Girl wants to sit with him and not with the Hubs and the Boy. She actually just wanted to be dropped off at the movies--uh, fuck no. She's only 10! I wonder if they'll hold hands? I hate I'm missing that.
Friday I took the day off and actually went and got my hair done. I get it cut from time to time but usually color it myself, which is a huge mistake. I think it's because the only time I've ever had it colored, styled, etc. was by my aunt (who does hair) and other places intimidate me. Thus I've had hair that obviously looks like I colored it myself. So anyway, I got it colored, it looks more natural, and when they were styling it they straightened it. For some reason, after I had kids, my hair became curly, like wildly curly. But I must say, it looked pretty awesome after the three hours I spent in the chair. I may just have to try straightening it myself from time to time, though the Hubs does like that wild curly look.
What is it about guys and wild hair? I guess it goes back to that saying they that's something like men like a lady around the house and a whore in the bedroom? I don't know. It's just hair for God's sake.