Getting Back to Un-Busy

Sorry it’s been a while since the last post, my bloggies. I’ve been busy– probably only as busy as a normal busy person is on a regular basis, but to me it felt frantic, and exhausting.

Flew to Vancouver and back. Travel is horrible, I hate it. On the plane, no legroom, so I asked the stewardess if I could sit up in one of the bulkhead seats. Sure, she said. So I went up and pointed to a seat this jackass dude had his briefcase on, and said: “Mind if I sit there?”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to sit here?”

“Well, I’m 6’5″ and my seat’s really cramped, do you mind?”

“I would, actually.”

My turn to say: “Why?”

“I’d have to move my stuff, and we’d have someone sitting between us.”

I was about to pursue it, but then thought: nah. This guy was being such an ass that I didn’t want to sit next to him anyway.

So he got his wish. Then a lonely hotel room, numerous radio and TV appearances, then back on a plane.

Of course the same douche is on the plane.

“Don’t even look at me,” I said to the douche.

He kept looking at me.

“I’m telling you,” I said. “You’re making a mistake even looking at me.”

He kept doing it, with a defiant look on his face. I would have done him right there, grabbed him by the throat and squeezed until his face turned purple and there was genuine fear in his eyes, but didn’t want to get tossed off the plane. Oooh, I can’t wait to see him around town. I’ll never forget his stupid, jackass face, and balding dome. Please, God, let me run into this guy.

Then the launch party, at the United Steelworkers of America building. Nerve-wracking. Many, many details, right down to “which type of wire does the DJ need to hook his gear up to the venue’s speakers.” We got it wrong, the DJ had to run off to get a different type of wire at the last minute. Plastic glasses, snacks, did we buy enough booze? Would enough people show?

It came off in the end, though, and was fun.

Then this weekend hockey, hockey, hockey, then preparations for Adam’s 8th birthday and la la la. Running around frantically all weekend. Radio interview at 7:30 a.m. yesterday, program called “Fresh Air.” Another one this morning on “Roger, Darren, and Marilyn,” at 8:10.

Life has had a certain never-stop quality of late. It’s good, I’m not complaining, but I didn’t get much writing done. 

It’s nice to be back in my red flower-patterned chair, typing. 

This is where I belong. This is what I like. Sitting and typing and making myself little snacks. This is when I’m most productive, ironically, and unlike most of the rest of the population.

When I’m not busy.