No reading, alas

Just to let you know, I've had to cancel my participation in the reading. I still sound like I'm hacking up a lung, which just isn't sexy.

If you were planning on going, I encourage you to still do so and support the other writers. Thanks!

Thingie-things

You know the world is strange when you get an e-mail with this subject line—“Slave Cylinder Weep Hole Kit”—and it’s not spam. (Ken is selling old motorcycle parts. I…don’t ask.)

<>-<>-<>

Had an utterly fabby time with the local RWA-ers, and high tea was again exquisite, and everybody wants to do this monthly! Given how hard it is to get us all in the same place at the same time (we managed 5 out of 6 of us this time), we may not make it monthly, but we can always try.

Proving that I am still muzzy-headed from this cold, I managed to send out Ken’s birthday party invitation without actually mentioning the date. Sheez.

Four stories in the mail today. Go me!

And over 1K on High Spirits, which isn’t the best daily wordcount overall, but is the best I’ve done since I’ve been back home and stricken with this cursed cold. Last night’s brainstorming is serving me well, and I’m looking forward to getting back to things tomorrow.

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Currently Reading: Ill Wind, Rachel Caine
Lately Listened To: gods, I really haven’t been listening to anything much
Recently Watched: Medium (finished last season!), The Graham Norton Show

Storms in the brain

Okay, I lied. Or maybe my body lied to me. Or maybe I overestimated my body. In any case, I’m not better. I’m still coughing and stuffed up and have digestive issues. For the latter, I’m self-medicating with pasta and cheese and pizza. For the other two…I’d hoped to skip the Nyquil tonight, but we’ll see.

It’s bad enough that I not only cancelled our dinner with Morgana and Brian tonight (new Lebanese place in town! I have no idea what Lebanese food is like, but it sounds interesting!), and I e-mailed the woman in charge of Monday night’s reading to warn her that I might cancel out. I haven’t even been able to practice reading my story, because of all the coughing.

I’m pretty determined to go for high tea tomorrow with my fellow local RWA-ers, because it’s just a couple blocks away (in the historic Woolworth’s building) and tea is always good. The LARA meeting Sunday is questionable, though.

<>-<>-<>

Sat down tonight and just brainstormed on High Spirits. Reminded myself what the external and internal conflicts were, then just spewed out ideas for scenes. Eventually things coalesced a little, and I figured out the next three or four probable scenes. (Since I’m an organic writer, that’s subject to change. But usually I know what the next few scenes are going to be.)

So that’s good, at least.

---

Currently Reading: Ill Wind, Rachel Caine
Lately Listened To: my own coughing and sniffling
Recently Watched: Medium, Cities of the Underworld

Pondering tresses

I had every expectation of getting a lot done yesterday. The cold is on its downward slide; still annoying, but not quite so energy-draining. I had a chiro appt in the morning and plans for the quarterly birthday dinner with local friends (with 26 expected to show up), and that was it. We’d run errands, I’d cross things off my To Do list…

After my chiro appt we went grocery shopping, and my fabulous gay hairdresser called to say he had a cancellation today and was trying to consolidate tomorrow’s appts into today, and could I come in? Sure, says I, so once we’d unpacked the groceries, I was off.

Now. I’ve been itching for a change, not sure if it was just the lingering cold and a general grumpiness about everything or whether it really was time. So I sat down and said, “So, given the state of my hair (thinning, although it’s bounced back a bit, although it’s somewhat hereditary so I’m never going to have thick, lush tresses again) and my face shape (rather more oval now that I’ve lost weight) and my hair care routine (as little as possible; I’ll use a blowdryer for a few minutes if I must), what would you do with my hair, FGH?”

And FGH practically fell over in shock and delight.

We talked, and I perused many hair magazines while my vibrant color was cooking under the dryer, and I decided that (a) I was just picking shorter versions of my own hairstyle and/or (b) I didn’t know if my hair would do the things in the hairstyles I liked, and (c) I should stop looking at the super-short cuts with the spikey tops because I would regret that. So back at the chair, I asked him to show me pictures of what he thought, but they didn’t help because he’d say “Well, like this, only not with this part,” which meant it wasn’t like the picture at all and how was I supposed to visualize it.

So I said “Fine. Do what you think is best. I trust you.”

I now have five inches less hair and a different shape, and the jury’s still out. I got a lot of compliments last night, but two people called me cute, which made me want to weep and go back and get the spikey cut (with purple highlights or something). (One person did backpedal upon my wail and suggest the alternate “sexy and adorable,” which mollified me somewhat.)

I’ll decide after I have a chance to play with it, because my lack of serious hair-care routine will make it look different than FGH’s mad coiffing.

Anyway. After that I picked Ken up at the bike dealer where he’d dropped off the GT for servicing, and then we went to Costco and Jo-Anns, and then we unpacked everything, and an hour later it was time to leave for dinner. Ken, Thomasina, and I all ordered different sushi so we could mix and match, and we were deliciously stuffed by the end of it. Mmmm, suuuushi. Sushisushisushi. Food of the gods. How did I live half my life not knowing about this delicacy? Now I can’t live without it.

We staggered home, watched Eureka, did some computer work, and then Ken went to bed and I got a little writing done (610 words—although I haven’t gotten close to my needed daily count since I got sick, I have managed 500+ words every day, and I’m very happy about that) and then I chugged my blessed Nyquil and slept the Nyquil-Drugged Sleep of the Damned.

Today, though. Today I will get some things crossed off my To Do list. Before my massage therapist comes to work on both of us.

Honest.

<>-<>-<>

Update: Today I discovered that I can pull my hair into two low pigtails. It’s okay to call me cute when I wear my hair like this, because I’m being deliberately cute. My massage therapist wanted me to dress in a Daisy Duke outfit and Ken wanted me to dress in a Mary Anne outfit. I’d say this is positive progress.

Less than 500 words today; I hit the end of a scene last night and realized today that I don’t know what happens next. It’s often suggested that at a moment like that, you have men with guns burst in. I considered that option, but they really don’t fit in this type of book. I thought of someone else coming to the door, who might throw another obstacle into my heroine’s life, but I don’t know why they’re there. Someone would have to have suggested a problem (which doesn’t exist), and I’m not sure who. Yet. I’ll sleep on it.

<>-<>-<>

Phaedra is looking for black bunny slippers, to no avail. Anyone know of a source?

---

Currently Reading: Kiss and Tell, Linda Howard
Lately Listened To: my own coughing and sniffling
Recently Watched: Eureka, CSI: NY

Ooh! Shiny!

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The four-star review

I have in my hot little hands the issue of Romantic Times with our four-star review in it, and I'm assuming it's okay to trumpet the review text to the world:

"Dale's story is a strong romance with a bit of angst and some well-executed character development. The characters engage in sexual antics, including consensual bondage and sex toys, and secondary characters help the plot develop."

(I admit I had to giggle a little at "engage in sexual antics"—I mean, it is an erotic romance, so what do you expect!—but I'm thrilled overall. The summary of the book nails the characters and conflict, too.)

This issue (October 2007) also has our New Author Spotlight ad in it! Check it out if you get the chance!

Press Release: Best Lesbian Bondage Erotica

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Reading in Los Angeles

I'll be participating in a group reading (and, I assume, booksigning) in Hollywood on 9/17. I realize that getting to Hollywood on a Monday night isn't the easiest thing, and also that lesbian erotica may not be your cup of tea! But if you CAN make it, it would mean a lot to me. While I don't have a particular problem speaking in public, I've never done a reading of my own work before, and yeah, that makes me a little nervous... =8-0

Here's the info:

Monday, September 17
7:30 p.m.
A Different Light
8853 Santa Monica Blvd.
West Hollywood CA 90069
310-854-6601

Feel free to cross-post/forward as you see fit. No need to respond (unless you want to let me know you're coming and will be bringing a paper bag in case I hypeventilate... ;-) ). Hope you see some of you there!

Contest deadline extended!

If you're anything like me, you've spent the last week staggering around wondering how it got to be the beginning of September already.

So I've decided to extend the contest deadline for How Many Styx and SRP References Can You Find in A Little Night Music to Sunday at midnight. Rules are at my website. I know some of you are already working on it (I've received several entries already!), and I hope you're having fun with it!

You are getting sleeeeeepy...

Had a great chiro appt this morning, and my massage therapist should be arriving in less than an hour. However, that vague pain and minor swollen feeling in the back of my throat better the hell not be a sore throat, or heads will roll. [scowls] I don’t have time to be sick!




Busy day. I got four stories back in the mail:

• ”Dreamseer” to Black Gate
  
• ”Queen of Hearts, Hand of Fate” to Clarkesworld
  
• ”Testing the Waters” to Cemetery Dance
  
• ”Proof of Devotion” (which will appear in Fabulous Whitby very soon!) to Best New Paranormal Romance 3.
  

I also confirmed with two editors that it’s okay to simultaneously submit a story that editor #2 requested after I’d already sent it to editor #1. Editor #1 says it’ll be in one of two anthos; editor #2 says it’s a strong possibility for hers.

I didn’t get my 2K done last night (it was just shy of 1400 words when I called it quits), but I haven’t glued my butt to the writing chair yet. Gack!

<>-<>-<>

Update: Apparently I am coming down with a cold, if this sore throat and general muzziness is to be heeded. Crap. Here I wanted to push and hit 5K each day this weekend, and now I might be sidelined. I got only my minimum 500 words done tonight, and now I’m heading to the bedroom to fall over.

So that’s it. If anyone tells you the life of a writer is glamorous, they’re lying through their teeth.

Either that, or I’m doing something wrong…

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Currently Reading: Trixie Belden and The Mystery at Bob-White Cave, Kathryn Kenny
Lately Listened To: the purring of cats happy that I’m home
Recently Watched: Eureka, CSI: NY

Sorting the mail

Apparently the end of August is “clean out your slush pile” time, because I’ve received a flurry of rejections over the past few days (sigh):

• Multiple rejections from Best Lesbian Erotica 2008 because I’d sent a number of my own stories as well as Sophie stories. Oh well!
  
• Rejection from Clockwork Phoenix for “Berengere.”
  
• Rejection from Weird Tales for “Queen of Hearts, Hand of Fate”
  
• Dark Regions passed on “Testing the Waters,” but asked if I had some shorter works (alas, I don’t have much in the way of dark fantasy or horror…).
  
• IGMS may have rejected “Soulsearching,” the submission currently with them, but the e-mail says “Seeds of Hope,” which they rejected back in July. I’m following up.
  
• Black Gate apologized for taking so long to pass on “Berengere,” citing a possible glitch.
  
• Yellow form of promise from Realms of Fantasy for “Dreamseer.”
  
• A pass on an anthology story, but the editor wants to know if another story (that she accepted for an anthology that never got published) is still available. It’s with another editor now, but I’m going to see if the two editors are cool with one version being a reprint.
  

Despite no acceptances, there were some exciting things in the mail:

• Payment for “The Witch of Venice,” to appear in Screaming Orgasms and Sex on the Beach, plus a note from the editor saying that my story rocks. :-)
  
• Payment for my half of “Stranger to my Shores,” which appeared in Love on the Dark Side.
  
• Comp copies ofCrossdressing: Erotic Stories, containing “I Need a Man” (inspired in part by the Eurythmics song and Annie Lennox)
  
• Comp copies of Best Lesbian Bondage Erotica, containing a reprint of one of my favorite stories, “Frozen.”
  

And this one has to be a separate paragraph, not part of the list, because it’s so cool! I received a comp copies of the German edition of Cat Scratch Fever! That’s the picture above. The German title translates to Sharp Claws, which I think is amusingly appropriate.

German edition! Squee bouncity!

Homing

Welcome to DFW, where I was a mere month and a half ago leaving RWA Nationals. Possibly the same exact gate. Weird. I’m early, since Ken has to get a new rear tire on the bike before he continues on (and his trip includes a detour to Louisiana for a back rest for the bike; the only shop that does it hasn’t been able to get their hands on a 2007 model of his bike, so he’s their guinea pig in exchange for a discount).

There are no plugs in this airport, but there is a charging station where I can plug my laptop in for $6.95/hour. I think not. They don’t have free wireless here, either. Poopyheads.

So unless/until I run out of power, my goal is to get a few thousand words done on High Spirits today, before I get home tonight.

On Sunday we swung into Little Rock to see Little Rock Central High School, where the famous desegregation of schools occurred, before heading down to Hot Springs. We spent a few days with Ken’s grandmother, and his aunt came by for most of that time as well. On our way out, we stopped by the museum dedicated to the heyday of the hot spring spas and baths; next time, we swear we’re going to have a soak in the last remaining historic bath. There are some utterly gorgeous Victorian and Craftsman homes in the area, too… Then we wandered through Texas to Ken’s brother’s house, where I fell all over myself because of Dennis’ three kittens.

It’s been a good, full, fun vacation, but it’s going to be good to be home, too.

<>-<>-<>

There. Over 2K, which is more than I’ve written in one sitting in longer than I care to think about. Now all I have to do is keep that momentum up (kicking it up a few notches) for the rest of the month….

14,000 / 70,000 (20.0%)

<>-<>-<>

So, on a recent flight home (maybe from Oregon in May? Not sure.), the flight attendant on the Oxnard flight told me about a recent night flight where the plane couldn't land and had to go back to LAX and everyone had to be shuttled to Oxnard.

You know where this is going. Except for the shuttle part. Oh noooo, they wouldn't do that for us. It was either pay for a hotel at our own expense and take a morning flight, or we were on our own. Well, I looked at my fellow passengers (with whom I'd been chatting on the plane) and said "Who's going in with me on a rental car?" Three other passengers signed up, and one guy used his Hertz platinum card, and we all chipped in, and I was home just before midnight.

But after the Virginia kerfluffle, this is clearly a sign that I should refrain from flying for a while…

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Currently Reading: Silk, Caitlín R. Kiernan
Lately Listened To: just about every Styx album in existence
Recently Watched: CNN’s on a screen in front of me, but I’m mostly ignoring it

Cross-eyed

What month is it already?! [staggers about like a drunken monkey]

Let’s see. When we last left our intrepid travelers, they were drinking and being geeky. That was Wednesday night. Thursday morning, Ken and I reluctantly hauled ourselves out of bed and took a self-defense class, which was fantastic. I can take you down now, suckers, so watch out. (And it’s a reasonably non-physical form of defense, in that my back will not get tweaked. The instructor has taught it to a woman in a wheelchair. So there. You have been warned.)

The instructor doesn’t allow married couples to pair up during the practices (after a couple had to be separated due to a sudden desire to work out some, ah, differences), so I paired up with a friend I’d met at CCR two years ago. We kept cracking up because we are such girls. Me: “Okay, come at me.” Her: “Ow, ow!” Me: “Omigod I’m sorry!” Her: “No, no, you did really good!”

We had a lazy afternoon. We wandered the vendors and I picked up two more moisture-wicking shirts for riding. After I went back to the room to work for a bit, Ken found the bike wash, which is traditionally done by HS students as a fund-raiser. This year it was a chorus that’s one of eight in the U.S. chosen to perform at Carnegie Hall. So what does Ken do? Ask them if they know any Styx. Apparently they do sing “Show Me the Way.” So he wants to send them a copy of the CYO DVD. I love my husband. :-)

There was a banquet that night, and the silent auction, and I won a cooling vest (you soak it with water for hot, dry rides and it keeps you cool. I have a neck wrap of the same type, and it’s awesome.), and then we hung out at the Booze Brothers party. Since the theme of the banquet was the Blues Brothers (because of the soul/funk band that played after dinner), many of us had scarfed the hats and were walking around wearing sunglasses. Amusing pictures will be shared upon our return home.

Friday we headed back to St. Louis for the IBR banquet, and then I hung out in the room while Ken kicked metaphorical tires with rally guys, and we had a quiet evening. It was weird not being at the CCR rally, but Ernie called Ken as soon as the announcement was made about next year’s venue: Zermatt, Utah. Coolness! The area is gorgeous for riding, and a lot closer to home. The resort itself looks like it belongs in Switzerland, and we’ll have the whole thing to ourselves.

After I had another awesome Chesterfield Skillet for breakfast, we headed out on the road again. First stop was the World Bird Sanctuary (quite near the wild canid center, in fact). They had the most adorable little owl that I wanted to scoop up and take home with me. He was just so tiny and talkative. Thank goodness he was locked in a cage or he’d be tucked in my jacket right now. They also had a little kestrel, which are so cute because they want to be like the big birds, but they’re just not. He was all puffed up trying to look important, but he just wasn’t big enough… And there was an eagle and a spectacled owl and a couple of red-tailed hawks and… There were a ton of birds, and yet they said a lot were out at a Renaissance Faire! I bought a little stuffed peregrine falcon that makes an authentic cry. It’s part of a series, and I want to collect all of the birds of prey; I already have the red-tailed hawk.

They also had some animal displays in the gift shop—a variety of snakes and lizards, and a pair of opossums. I had no idea opossums were so big…or so cute! The handler who was cleaning their enclosure let them wander, and one toddled out to explore the nearby area. He was cross-eyed! Utterly adorable.

We headed south after that, avoiding freeways and taking the more scenic highways through Missouri and into Arkansas. We stopped in a small town for dinner, choosing a local BBQ joint over the sad plethora of fast food chains (they well outnumbered the local choices that we could find, sad to say). We’re spending the night just outside of Little Rock, and tomorrow we’ll get to Ken’s grandmother’s in Hot Springs.

<>-<>-<>

After much debate, I’ve come to the difficult decision of not going to the Book-in-a-Week and Novel Workshop in Oregon in October. It’s a matter of time, money, travel, etc.; the stars just don’t seem to be aligning. That said, I’m still making it a goal to finish the novel I’m working on (working title: High Spirits) by the end of September to get my trophy, which I’ll do as long as I send out some query letters.

The final quarter of the year will involve a new novel with Sarah (based on the 40K or so contemporary erotic romance I started last year), a revision High Spirits, and a long-overdue revision of An Ever-Turning Wheel with the goal of getting that one in the mail by the end of the year. That’ll make four novels in the mail this year, which ain’t too shabby…

Spelunked

Yesterday Ken did an advanced rider course and I failed to get anything noteworthy accomplished. I did tweak and mail a short story, and work out (in our room, with exercise bands), but no significant writing. It didn’t help that Ernie and Pauline had shown up late the night before and on Tuesday joined me in the suite and then dragged me off to lunch. Ken’s course finished early, and we eventually all toddled off to a group CCR dinner, after which Ken and Ernie wandered off for a bit while Pauline and I came back to the suite and continued drinking…

Today Ken and I had a leisurely morning (shall we say), then finally forced ourselves out to explore. We went to Ha Ha Tonka State Park, where we explored castle ruins, hiked under a natural bridge and to a cave entrance, and watched a hawk (or possibly a turkey vulture) soar lazily overhead. Then we collected Ernie and Pauline and went to Bridal Cave, one of the area’s biggest caverns. While we were waiting in the gift shop (where I bought an adorable little faerie tree made out of amethyst chips) to start our tour, the sky glowered and darkened, lightning flashed, thunder boomed, and suddenly there was a deluge so strong we couldn’t see the other side of the cove. The little hummingbird outside the window vanished somewhere safe as giant drops of rain and even a bit of hail swept by. Glorious!

Then we spelunked our way into the cave, where we saw the most adorable little bat and of course wandered through all sorts of gorgeous cave rooms. I love caverns. Our tour guide was pretty funny, too. I think our favorite part was when he turned out all the lights so we could experience real, full dark…and when the lights came back on, Ken and were caught kissing. :-)

Our tour guide had said the storm would be past by the time we finished our tour, and sure enough, the sun was back out—and ‘though it was still pretty humid, it was noticeably cooler (thank goodness!). We stumbled upon a German restaurant near the cavern and had a lovely meal (I went for weinerschitzel and spätzel and a glass of Chardonnay), picked up some more groceries, and now we’re hanging out in the suite drinking (is this becoming a theme?) and geeking out on various computers. Although I just made Pauline laugh so hard her face got as red as the sunburn on her chest. Go me!

Four stars!

Squee! I just got word from a friend that Romantic Times has given A Little Night Music four stars!

It's up on their website, but I don't have access to subscriber areas (never signed up, even though I get the magazine), so I don't know what the review says, but four stars!

[cue mad dancing and flailing about the room]

(And in another major incident of the stars converging, Amazon.com's "buy this book with this other one and get a discount" is pairing our book with...Chuck Panozzo's biography. Holy crap.)

So I had this weird dream, see....

Friday was a lazy day. Ken didn’t have bike work to do ‘til the afternoon, so we slept in and squeaked in for a late breakfast at one of the hotel’s restaurants. I had the most amazing “skillet” dish. For “veggies,” I expected onions and peppers. Nope, there were perfectly steamed carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower, and the hash browns were light and nongreasy, and the eggs were lovely. Best. Skillet. Ever.

In the early afternoon we went down to the fitness center and health spa, and Ken got a massage while I worked out. The exercise area was huge and very well-equipped. I listened to a Rockline with Styx from 2005 on my iPod and nearly fell off the elliptical a couple of times.

When Ken went off to be pit crew, I sat down to write. Hah. I kept turning into the Tasmanian Devil; I’d type a few words and then my head would spin around and weird noises would gurgle out of me, and I’d get up and do something else. Like wander down to the little shop and get Cheez-Its and gummi bears. It’s been years since I’ve eaten gummi bears. Gotta love those little chewy ursine bits of sugar. In sum, I didn’t get a lot of writing done, much to my chagrin. But by the gods, I cleaned out my e-mail In Box!

We had a late dinner with another bike guy, and then we spent the rest of the night repacking all our stuff, because there’s only so much room on the bike… Well, Ken packed. I lounged on the bed and read a book.

The Wild Canid Survival and Research Center (despite the web address, it’s not a sanctuary) was awesome. They have five types of canids there—Mexican grey wolves, maned wolves, African wild dogs, swift foxes, and red wolves—and we saw all five, which they said wasn’t usual. Such beautiful creatures. Smaller than I realized—I guess I think they’re big and bulky like huskies, when in fact they’re smaller, leaner. Simply gorgeous. The African wild dogs were particularly striking with their multicolored coats, and the maned wolf has this lush, thick red fur…

We grabbed lunch after that, then got on the road to Hope and Bob’s. On the way, I saw a red hawk in a tree right next to the on ramp we were on, and then, when we got there, I heard a red hawk call and saw one waaaaay up in the sky. I was quite chuffed to have recognized its call before I even spotted it.

We were immediately set upon by Hope and Bob’s kids, Sam (9) and Jessie (3). Sam remembered us from CA, but Jessie didn’t, given that when she left, she was still essentially a baby, and now she’s this little person. I don’t know about you, but I really didn’t expect a 3-year-old to walk up to me 10 minutes after I arrived and say (and this is pretty close to a direct quote), “Hey. I had a really weird dream the other night. You wanna hear it?” (Of course I said yes. I had to know what constitutes a weird dream for a 3-year-old. All told, it didn’t sound any weirder than any of my weird dreams…)

We all went out to a brew pub for dinner, and then they took us to a hot air balloon festival. Pictures will ensue.

Sunday was quiet; Bob had to leave in the afternoon to travel to a work site, so we took Hope and the kids out to dinner (excellent barbeque), and then we curled up and watched Wallace & Gromit and the Curse of the Were-Rabbit, because after a “Cheese, Gromit!” moment in the car, it came to light that Ken and I hadn’t seen the movie yet. Much amusement was had by all.

Today we made our way leisurely to Tan-Tar-A and checked in to our condo at the resort. It’s so pretty here, the hills covered with trees and the lake glimmering through the leaves, which we can see from our deck. We said hi to a lot of friends, had dinner (I had shrimp and pasta to do for), and popped out to get groceries before coming back to spend a quiet night in. Pictures of the area will be forthcoming when we get home!

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Currently Reading: The Wizard’s Daughter, Barbara Michaels
Lately Listened To: The Serpent Is Rising, Styx
Recently Watched: Missouri scenery

Howl of joy!

Squee! We’re going on a wolf tour tomorrow!

I’ve read about it in Laurell K. Hamilton’s blog ages ago, and totally didn’t process that it was here. Doi. Ken found the info, and now I’m bouncing around the room and squeeing. Only very quietly, because he’s on the phone making the reservation.

Where are we going?...

…How do I get there?/What should I bring along?*

Welcome to LAX, where there are not enough outlets near actual seats—and my back really can’t take sitting on the floor. It’s probably wrong and bad for me to resent people sitting near those outlets and not using them, huh?

I’m off on another adventure! I thought I’d rambled about this before, but folks have asked, so probably that rambling was all in my head. So here’s the scoop.

We’re going on our annual bike trip to Curve Cowboy Reunion (CCR), which this year is being held at the Tan-Tar-A Resort in Missouri. CCR has little in common with Harley rallies like Sturgis. For example, we have whiskey tastings. Oh, and financial seminars… Anyway, it’s held in a different place every year—we’ve been to Tennessee, Colorado, and Wyoming, but we missed Atlanta last year due to Ken’s work. There are usually about 500 riders/passengers and 300 bikes, mostly BMW K12s and other BMW bikes. (Ken’s riding a GT now.)

As you know (Bob), Ken’s been doing a lot of distance riding/rallies, with his ultimate goal being the Iron Butt Rally, held every other year. This year, the starting, midpoint, and end point is St. Louis, and Ken’s helping out one of the riders by changing his tires, doing a tune-up, etc., at the midpoint.

Ken left for Missouri Sunday night/Monday morning (to miss the worst heat of the desert), and is closing in on the state as I type. For a variety of reasons, including my trip to Virginia happening right before this one, I’m flying out and meeting Ken there. (Plus there’s that “avoid riding through the desert in August” factor.) Tomorrow I’ll hang out in the hotel room and work while Ken kicks tires with the riders. On Saturday, we’re heading to visit our friends Hope" and Bob, who moved to Missouri from southern California last year. We’ll stay with them through Sunday.

Monday we head to Tan-Tar-A (which in my head becomes “ta-ran-ta-ra, ta-ran-ta-ra,” thank you Gilbert & Sullivan), where we’ll be sharing a cottage/townhouse/something-or-other with another couple. From then ‘til Friday, we’ll be riding through the Ozarks, exploring caverns, visiting a Victorian castle ruin, hanging out with friends, taking an advanced riders course (Ken) and a self-defense class (both of us)…. And I’ll be working as much as I can.

Friday we’ll go back to St. Louis for the IBR finish and banquet. On Saturday, we’ll head to Arkansas to visit Ken’s 93-year-old grandmother and aunt. At some point after that, we’re going to Texas to visit Ken’s brother, and then I fly home Wednesday.

So, that’s the scoop. You have been illuminated.

<>-<>-<>

Scored an outlet—twelve minutes ‘til boarding. I’ll take what I can get. :-)

<>-<>-<>

The Denver airport notes that the ladies’ rooms are also tornado shelters. I don’t know whether to be disturbed or relieved.

That said, this is the first airport I’ve been in that has visible, clear clocks.

<>-<>-<>

Ken says that while he was riding, he had the iPod on random album shuffle. As he pulled up in front of the hotel, a new album started, with a crowd cheering.

And then Tommy Shaw shouted, “Hello, St. Louis!”

I cannot stop giggling about this…

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Currently Reading: Shadow Game, Christine Feehan
Lately Listened To: airport announcements
Recently Watched: Painkiller Jane, Graham Norton

*Bonus points to anyone who can ID this song!

Maybe the plane is invisible?

I’m on the plane to Los Angeles. I don’t know if I can adequately express how happy that makes me. Even if something messes up the flight to Oxnard, I’m still close enough to get home.

It was a little touch-and-go there, though.

We got to the airport at 5 a.m. today, and the check-in line was unhappily long, plus there was only one person working. I tried to use the express check-in kiosk, but it couldn’t find me, probably because it’s a rescheduled flight. So, finally finally finally I get up there (they’d added a second person by then, and also were asking folks on the 6 a.m. flight to come up first), and I get my boarding passes, and I turn in my suitcase, and I hug Sarah goodbye…

…and I get upstairs to discover the line for security is out the hallway to the gates, and edging down the hallway to other gates. This is not a large airport. I gaped. But I figured I was checked in, I had a little time, etc. Then, while standing in that interminable line, I looked at my boarding passes to discover that all I actually had was a boarding pass for the Chicago to LA flight, and the other two things were some other sort of flight document.

That other thingie got me through security, at least, but as I was waiting for my stuff to come through the screening machine, I heard them call final boarding for my flight. I grabbed my stuff, including my shoes, and ran. And ran. And thanked the gods for my personal trainer and my chiropractor and my massage therapist, even though I thought I was going to pass out. A few months ago, there was no way I could have even tried. As I ran, they made the “…and everybody should now be on board” announcement, and I ran and ran, and they accepted my flight document and gave me a boarding pass and told me to go out that door there and down the stairs to the “silver plane.”

So now I have barrelled out onto the tarmac, in the heat and dark, in my socks, and I cannot find the plane.

There’s a United plane in front of me, but the door’s closed and the stair ramp moved away. There’s a larger ramp to my right with no plane attached. There’s a Delta plane farther to my left. I’m having trouble processing this (as I gasp and wheeze and stare). Would they have given me the boarding pass and sent me out the door if the plane’s door was closed? Would they send me out this door if the plane was somewhere else? I was about to turn around and go back in and cry at the nearest United agent, when a baggage woman across the way shouted at me. I assumed she was telling me to get the hell off the runway, but I said “What?” and she said something along the lines of “It’s that other plane,” pointing at another United plane way behind the one in front of me.

So I ran across the tarmac in my socks and fell up the stairs, and, barely able to breathe because all the moisture has been sucked from my mouth, I gasp an inquiry as to whether this is the plane to Chicago, and it is, and I collapse in my seat and wait for my heart to stop pounding. As it turned out, I wasn’t even the last person to board.

Some time after that, it occurred to me that this was so going in a story someday.

I then had 10 minutes to switch terminals in Chicago, but a lot of people were in the same boat as me. I’m in an exit row, which just feels like the world’s biggest perk to this otherwise insane experience.

Okay, and now I’ve eaten for the first time in six hours. Life is definitely looking up. And I have a massage tonight, which will go a long way towards restoring my sanity.

Ken will be picking me up from the airport! Poor guy rushed home to be able to do that on Sunday. He’s leaving tonight, though, to start heading to Missouri. He was going to do a timed coast-to-coast ride, but decided he’d rather be more prepared. Plus he misses me. So he’ll wait ‘til after dark, when it’s cooler and the traffic has died down, to get through LA and the desert. I turn around and fly back out on Thursday morning. Ack.

The person who was happiest about this whole delay thing was Fiona, Sarah’s daughter. She was just over the moon that she got to spend more time with me. Sarah and I were happy about spending more time with each other, sure, but we also sat around Sunday evening and most of Monday feeling confused, like we were waiting for something, but we weren’t sure what…

<>-<>-<>

Sarah’s and my book signing for A Little Night Music went smashingly. We sold over half the stock ordered by the store, and were the third best-selling book for the store that week! Go us!

I’ve been working away at my urban fantasy novel, which I really have to ramp up progress on if I’m going to get it done by the end of September. I’ve also started an anthology story that I’ll finish off in the next day or two.

<>-<>-<>

Well, I almost missed my Oxnard flight because I went to the bathroom and they boarded the plane in the two and a half minutes I was gone. But I hopped on, and then we were in Oxnard, and Ken was waiting with kisses and Baja Fresh.

I’m exhausted, but I’ve gotten a lot done: unpacked, caught up (mostly) on e-mail, sorted mail, paid bills, done some prep work for our trip. Ken leaves in a few hours. Wah.

Oh, and my massage therapist thought I was going to be away this week, but we’ve rescheduled for tomorrow evening. Phew!

---

Currently Reading: Summer Knight, Jim Butcher
Lately Listened To: Bloodletting, Concrete Blonde
Recently Watched: Gowan concert and videos (Still, so shocking.)

Where I'm not

100 for 100
35 / 100 (35.00%)
In the "I could laugh or I could cry" category of life, I'm choosing to laugh about the fact that I should be on the first leg of my flight home right now, but all flights have been cancelled due to the weather, and the first flight they could book me on was Tuesday morning. At least I get in before 1 p.m. local time, so I'll have a day and a half before I leave for Missouri. But I'm pretty sure Ken, who's on his way home right now, will have to leave for Missouri before I actually get home. That's really the truly sucky thing about this. I can cancel my appointments, the cat sitters can continue for a few more days. I just really fucking miss Ken right now.

Oh, and have I mentioned recently how much I love Styx? I love the fact that I can be in the fourth row on the wrong side and at least four band members will spot me and smile at me in a "Hi, you're here!" way, and that Tommy will run out onto Def Leppard's catwalk to hurl a (new! exciting! think green!) tote bag at me. Yup. I love this band.