Lemonade

Friday sucked.

Saturday didn’t. Sunday was pretty much the opposite of suckage. And almost all’s well since.

I wrote previously that perspective is a good thing, and Saturday proved it. Where on the day before I was ready to throw in the towel and just-finally-move-to-Albania-and-raise-goats-dammit, I decided Saturday to turn my little crisis into an opportunity. Perhaps I’ll post the core of the resulting manifesto here one of these days.

But the event that really inspired me was this: I met a writer on Sunday. Actually, I’d met her several times previously–as recently as a live-radio performance on Saturday night, in fact–but really had a chance to get to know her a bit better after we saw Bowling for Columbine with a mutual friend. She’s got a great attitude, a wicked sense of humour with timing to match, and she would very likely flay the first person to refer to her as sweet (which they’d do, ’cause she is… kinda). Naturally I lent her my copy of the torso-sized 35-year edition of The Essential Ellison (the paperback, but only because I haven’t finished the hardcover 50-year edition yet), not least of all because she gave an appropriately-horrified reaction to my friend when he dared to suggest that she might dog-ear the pages or break the spine.

Now if I could only find out her last name….