Nonetheless, tomorrow night we're driving off to Rochester for yet another wedding. This time, it's the first same-sex marriage in the family. We're all really happy for my cousin and her bride. I gather the other family is a little ambivalent, but the forecast says drama is unlikely. If drama breaks out, well, I can just feign mingling in order to go sneeze on the offenders. The bug may not be instant karma, but it's karma in a matter of hours.
The wedding will be fun, once it's happening. I'll be delighted to be in Rochester, the moment I get there. I'd like to sleep through the driving part, but I think I'm the less sick of the available drivers.
I am so traveled out. I had thought I would clear my tutoring calendar next Thursday and Friday so I could do all four days of the Dodge Poetry Festival. Now I'm thinking I'll only go up for the weekend. It's hard to scale back on that plan, though. Linda Gregg will be there. You've never heard of Linda Gregg. That's okay. She's a famous poet, which is why hardly anybody knows who she is. She came to give a reading at Rutgers a few years ago, and I brought my tattered old copy of Alma for her to sign. Tried to tell her what her work had meant to me, found myself completely unable to speak. I stammered for long enough, she probably got the point.
What would I not give to have a quiet weekend with my manuscript? Apparently I wouldn't give up weddings, funerals, or the best poetry festival in the English-speaking world, but really, I need to stay home and work. Remember how I was supposed to have a complete working draft of the Stisele project by the end of this month? Because there was an editor who actually wanted to see a partial of it once it was done, and she was hoping that would be in September or October? It's not looking good for our heroes.