Waiting at LAX. We’ll be boarding soon, and the flight is only about an hour, so I probably won’t be able to work on the plane. I’m going to re-read what I’ve written of the submission story so far and let it percolate in my brain. I have an hour and a half layover in SFO and will work on it there, along with having dinner.

I miss Ken already. Ack. I wish I’d thought to put a picture of him on the laptop desktop. Instead, I’m forced to look at a row of bikes. Granted, one is his, but it’s not the same. I doubt there’s any other art on the laptop. Ah, wait! There’s the standard stuff. Now I have water. Much more soothing.

In SFO, close to boarding. Finished the story! I’ll read it over once more tonight. It’s pretty silly. Different from my usual stuff, I think. I’ve had a lot of fun with it.

Well. This isn’t how things were supposed to go. I can’t get into my motel—the office closed at 10 (I thought they told me 11 on the phone) and they’re not answering their “emergency numbers” (and I _know_ they told me to call the # on the office door if I got in after hours). Luckily, there’s a free room in the workshop house tonight, so I don’t have to sleep on the sofa. I’ll go to the motel in the morning and check in and complain, etc. Grr.

But, it meant I had a pleasant hour or so chatting with Dean and some of the other attendees, some of whom were in the previous class I took. I would’ve probably been lonely in the motel. I’m still feeling a little homesick (Kensick?) as it is.

And, goddammitall, but I’m in a book room! The house rule is that we can’t touch any books except those in the common rooms. Many of these are collector’s items, etc. Last year, I was in a room with all of Dean’s Matchbox cars. While I do love Matchbox cars, I didn’t have much of an urge to play with them. But books… And they all seem to be anthologies, too, and I want to pull various ones out and read TOCs and dip into different stories… Dammit dammit dammit.

You know what’s worst of all? They don’t seem to be alphabetized. I’d sit on my hands, but I need them for typing.

Okay, I’m going to give the story one more read through, add a bit of sensory detail to the last part, and call it a night. Dean’s warning us that this is the last good night’s sleep we’ll get this weekend…