Again with the hot, and it’s only 9am. Blah. People live in this on purpose, that’s what blows my little tiny dehydrated mind away. Of course, I’m a particularly wussy breed of Alaskan, too, so that may have something to do with my general feelings of BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! We went to Trinity Church and St. John the Divine yesterday. St. John is the largest Gothic cathedral in the world, and lemme tell you: walking into it is like walking down the Halls of Moria. It’s *huge*. It’s dark and…
did I mention the hot and sweaty?
Did I mention the hot and sweaty? Up at the crack of 9 this morning to stagger about in a slow fashion and ultimately find some breakfast and go down to Trinity Church and Ground Zero. We weren’t 100% sure we were going the right direction, although we left the subway station from the southwest corner, which implied the right direction. Then, a couple blocks from the station, there was suddenly this huge, gaping hole in the city of New York. We were going the right direction. Ground Zero’s a…
hot. sweaty. dying. MEOW.
Hot. Sweaty. Dying. MEOW! Hello from the hostel in NYC. It’s pretty decent. Bright colors and clean rooms and my god it’s hot. Laura and Ben are safely married in what was a terrific wedding ceremony. I’ll write more about it later when I’m not paying $2 for 20 minutes of net access. Their friend Barry drove us into NYC this afternoon and walked us around some so we could get a feel for the place (THANK YOU, BARRY!). It’s a little much for Ted, who doesn’t like going into…
we’re off.
Ok. We’re off, in about an hour. We’ll be gone from tomorrow, the 11th, through the 17th, next Wednesday. We’ll presumably be entirely without email the next three days, but Sunday through Tuesday we’ll be in NYC and one imagines we can find access to the net there somewhere, so if you simply can’t stand being without me another moment, you can always send email. In the meantime… there is no meantime. Man, I’m tired.
*Dead* tired.
The manuscript, bless its black little heart, is off to the agent. In a fit of … something. Efficiency? Editor/agent-inspired panic? I rewrote the section of the book I thought was weak, and now I’m very *very* pleased with the results and extremely happy with the novel overall. Not that I wasn’t happy with it before, but I’m much *happier* now. *beam* Let’s hear it for rewrites jacking up the wordcount: ytd wordcount: 197,000 I would go die of exhaustion now if I didn’t have a billion trillion million things…