I know that I'm wretched for having posted nothing but a dumb pumpkin spice latté review since August. I also know there only a few of you who care, but still.
Things are happening here. I'm going to China in one week. A flight to Seoul and then to Shanghai. Even though I'm staying with a college friend most of the time, I'm doing a solo stint in Beijing and a jaunt to the Great Wall alone, so I'm considering this quite the adventure. I don't have any illusions it'll turn into some approximation of Eat Pray Love, but I expect I'll learn a few things about myself. I've never traveled alone internationally. I'm excited to see how I'll do.
There was also this lupus saga, wherein I convinced myself I had it. The results are mostly in. And, nope. Probably not. I definitely have something autoimmune, but the hematologist believes it is Sjogrens instead of lupus. Sjogrens has some scary manifestations but less, I think. I'm not going to dwell on them or really think about them. I can live my whole life with it and only suffer dry mouth (yes, yes, oh my god yes I have that like a MOTHER already) and dry eyes (which, haha, I tear up at the slightest breeze, so not so far). I carry a bottle of water with me almost everywhere and get slightly panicky if I don't have one, but otherwise I carry on as before.
I just submitted a short story collection to the Iowa fiction contest, which is something I've always wanted to do. Whatever the result, I have heaved myself over a finish line with a tattered manuscript in one hand a glass of champagne in the other. Check. Now I'm working on my second YA "novel".
Also, I am old. So very, very old. I will turn 44 in December and I have this to say: What the FUCK? Yesterday I was 23. I was telling myself "At 27 you'll have a novel published."
I'm admittedly depressed by this memory and that I DON'T have a novel published. I mean, I do. But not really. Also, I'm not someone to become depressed. I plug away. I'm an idiot. A savant without the genius, trudging slowly with arms outstretched toward my dream. I'll probably be 88 by the time Penguin picks me up. If then.
Anyway. You've heard enough of that.
Probably when you hear from me next I will have been to Asia and back. I will undoubtedly have some serious mess-ups under my belt. And hopefully some victories as well. Either way, I will have done it. And I'll let you know how it goes.