19 September 2004
Mark and I are going to a Boy Scout pancake breakfast this morning. Our second date was a Boy Scout spaghetti supper. When my mom heard this, she did the thing where you draw a square in the air with both index fingers, but when you go to college in St. Pete, you pretty much take your social opportunities where you can get them. Our first date was a jazz concert at the Chestnut Tree, but the Chestnut Tree wasn't having another jazz concert the next week, and the Boy Scouts were having a spaghetti supper, and Scott and Erica and Chris and Daph were already going. So when the kid showed up at our door Friday evening with tickets for the pancake thing, we looked at each other and said, "Ummm...sure!" It'll be just the same, only different.
Scott was all Captain Subtle about the spaghetti supper, telling Mark, "You know, if you want to come...and if there's anyone you want to bring........"
After the pancakes, we will come home and make sure the house is not too much of a pit before Dena and Stella, Mike, and Roo get here. Stella and Mike had to go to a wedding and couldn't make it to David's birthday party last night, which is too bad, because we had a good time, and I think they would have, too. Lots of people I didn't know, a few people I'd met once or twice, some people I knew by their livejournal names. Cranberry daquiris. Good cake with really awesome frosting. (Then I was standing right by the cake and smelling the frosting for something like half an hour, and I didn't want to actually eat any, but oh, man, did I want another taste.) We were able to stay late-ish: nobody's cat allergies acted up in the cat-free zone. It was good.
For my day of rest today, I have closed the files to the novel and will not be opening them. Because if I hadn't closed them right away first thing in the morning, I have a feeling I'd be poking at Chapter 42 to see if I could have it done in just a few more paragraphs.
I said "Chapter 42" because I finished 40 and 41 yesterday. I now have a really strong urge to open the outline and the novel text files and see what chapter 42 is and what's actually left to do on it. I am resisting the urge. This is what happens when books eat my brain.
I'm wondering how much of the brain-eating is due to it being that time of book and that time of year (I love fall) and how much it might just be that I'm making myself take these Sundays off. The recharge time may be that productive. I don't know. We'll see when I'm done with this book, I guess. We'll see if it carries over.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.