Weeks don't usually come this full.
Standing in a huge group of people at Winston Wächter Gallery, glass of champagne in hand, listening to Stephen speak about his art, with his paintings on the wall behind.
On-the-clock / off-the-clock dread at work, waiting to find out if Stephen or I will be one of the ones laid off.
Good friends losing their jobs.
Noni in the hospital with pneumonia, fear but then favorable reports from home of how she's doing.
Learning wonderful secrets from friends.
On-the-clock / off-the-clock dread, waiting to find out if Stephen or I will be one of the ones bumped by one of the ones laid off.
[in my head, i keep thinking "bumped off" which is kind of fun because it makes me feel like i'm in a gangster movie.]
Arriving at Dangerous Writing to find a thick stack of completed manuscript in the middle of Tom's table, ready to be sent off to his agent. A book we in the workshop have been privileged to watch come to life over these past couple years. Tom says, touch it for good luck. Later, Tom says, kiss it with your red lipstick. I kiss right at the edge of his name on that top page. Then one by one, first the women, then the men, pinking their lips, covering the page with color.
Learning unhappy secrets from friends.
A night of amazing pages, then I read last. The very final chapter of the second draft of the novel. Hoping Stephen arrives in time to sit in but he doesn't. But Sage is there - lovely surprise. Finish reading, and Tom starts clapping, then it's a full-out standing ovation around the room. I want to fly and I want to hide under the table. Stephen doesn't arrive until just as it's over, but I say, "Ladies and gentlemen: Michael," and they applaud him too. I tell him to get some lipstick on.
We all agree Charles looks pretty damn good in that shade of red.
Blue Monk later, drinks all around, hanging out and talking writing and other things. Taffy and She-Yeti don't make it, but Carrie does, even with a marathon reading of Moby Dick ahead of her. A toast to Charles for creating my website. Emily and I conspire to get champagne to toast Tom and his book, but I get waylaid in a conversation. Suddenly here's Emily with lots of glasses with a bit of champagne in each, passed around, a toast to Tom and to me--I feel privileged to have my toast folded up with his. Lovely night with so many of the very important people in my life.
Top it off with an evening with a couple more of those people (the very important kind), amazing, enriching conversation, the kind where you feel like you must be the dumb one in the room, the bar is so high, and talking some of our favorite topics. Delicious dinner and a surprise recording session to be part of a very cool podcast series.
This isn't even a week, it's five days. Who would have thought the biggest part of our week would not be Turandot?