Tuesday, July 16, 2013

the devil went down to georgia

It's not even officially conference time yet, and I must report that I had entirely too much scotch tonight. I don't even like scotch. But I was hijacked as I was going through the hotel lobby, and I ended up hanging out for a few hours with two of my very favorite San Francisco romance writers (Rachael, whose birthday party I went to in Oakland last week, and Sophie, who would need no introduction if you knew her). So, I have no regrets at all, but my boss may have regrets, since there are many emails I meant to send tonight. j/k, he has no regrets either, since I'm a rockstar. And clearly I'm drunk if I typed that publicly. So perhaps tomorrow I will have regrets!

But today was great - I had a fabulous day at work, and wished that I could work out of Atlanta all the time, since I was closer to Dublin (my Europe meetings started at the v. civilized hour of 11am) and could actually afford to buy a house here. Also, I felt like I contributed something valuable in every meeting I had, which is rarer than I wish it would be. I left the office around 6:15, came back to the hotel, took a wrong turn coming out of the subway and ended up a block away from the hotel, and on the way back ran into one of my fellow '09 Golden Heart finalists. I ended up having dinner with her and two of her friends from Houston at a place called Juke Jive or something - there was live music and pretty good food, so that was all nice. And then I came back to the hotel, was on my way to my room (having valiantly forsaken the bar in the interest of getting work done), and ran into Rachael and Sophie. And the rest was gloriously drunken history.

And now I truly must sleep; I have a retreat tomorrow that is going to be the fucking best thing ever, and registration starts at eight, so I should skedaddle. I would never type that sentence sober. Forgive me, Sara Ramsey. Goodnight!

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