Today took a v. abrupt, v. welcome left turn, which means I wrote about sixty words instead of six thousand words. I got up, puttered around the house, and then walked down the street to have breakfast at a cafe and reread the last ten pages of my manuscript so that I could figure out the next scene. I intended to walk to another cafe after that and work all afternoon...but instead, while I was eating, I got a phone call from Walter (aka Harold, aka the Talbotross), who said that he was three hours away and asked whether I had time to hang out this afternoon. I threw caution to the winds and pretended that I am not writing a book so that I could hang out with him, since I would surely regret indulging my hermit tendencies at the expense of getting to catch up with Walter for the first time in over a year...and according to the blog, I last saw him March 28/29, 2011, which was quite some time ago indeed.
Anyway, Walter showed up and we hung out in my apartment for awhile, and then we walked down to the marina and looked at the water, the boats, and the woman who has trained pigeons to let her cuddle them (ew). Then we came back to my place, hung out some more, and then had dinner at Chow (much more satisfying and sanitary than watching a woman cuddle a pigeon). Then we met up with John and Jess for a drink (alcohol for me and John, hot chocolate for Jess and Walter, as life should be). And now I should really sleep; Walter brings out a purely crazy level of awkward/awesome in me, and I need to restore myself if I'm going to handle having breakfast with him - he's sleeping on my couch, so I will see him in the morning before he continues his trek north. Goodnight!
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