Quiet Friday

Notes from last night's reading:

• If you sport hair still flat-ironed by your amazing hairdresser while you're wearing red lipstick, someone might tell you you look glamourous. You might be amazed and quite chuffed.
• It was a stroke of genius to use a music stand; however:
• Don't put the music stand too close to your right hand, the hand with which you do the bulk of your gesticulating. You will feel hemmed in and pushed around by your prop.
• If you don't want to take one gazillion tiny sips of water, drink lots of it during the day.
• Finish editing the piece more than an hour before the reading.

I'm quite happy with how it went, and I hope we raised some cash for the Canadians for Choice.

When I got there, I was in a terrible crank. Just fucking terrible. Mostly stress, I think. I had planned on not drinking, but when Shelley offered to get me something, I accepted anyway. And thank god. The wee glass of bad white wine did smooth me out. The relief of the reading being over helped out too.

As did the post-reading beer bought me by my friend Paul. And the sitting and staring into space.

We left early - we being most of the crowd - Paul and I walking Shelley part way home before heading off to see DJ Jo work her magic at the Rock n Roll Pizza Party, joining Lesley and Adam, but missing Zoom and GC. I was pretty tired, and had been relying on the shaking of my can at the Bytowne to keep me awake. Sadly, as is my penchant, I caught the last few songs of J.'s set before she stopped, and got too tired to stay until the dance set started.

Tonight my house is a party house. M-C just walked in the door, waved goodnight to me, and headed up to bed. I'm going to finish this, make myself a cup of soy hot chocolate, watch a couple of episodes of Dexter, knit on the new cat sheet for my couch, get to bed at a reasonable hour. I look forward to more than 6 consecutive hours in bed.

Raise the roof.