Saturday and Sunday-- Let's put this one in the books.
While I was lying in bed, nursing my inexplicable headache, Cameron was out running sixteen miles. Just thought I ought to share that.
In the afternoon, Karen and I attended one panel, along with her three-month-old daughter, Kate. (More on this interaction later.) Moment of the day: When one author started an anecdote with the phrase, "When I was on tour in France" and Karen and I turned to each other with the simultaneous, unspoken thought: "I want to go on a book tour in France."
Which I'm sure we are both going to do, assuming the people of France have any interest in land-based cephalopods.* Hey, they like Jerry Lewis; anything is possible.
Cameron, ever-obliging,** had made a reservation for us at Foreign Cinema, one of my favorite restaurants in the city where, among other lovely things, they have a most excellent oyster list. (We had a selection of Pacific varieties, in the interest of locavorism. I ate more than my share.)
The book theme of the weekend continued in the movie*** was "Where the Wild Things Are" and when I happened to mention my pre-teen self's devotion of the Babysitter's Club books, our waitress, who had just approached, gasped and said that she loved them too. So we had a nice little chat about Summer Specials and who our favorite characters were,***** and it all seemed very appropriate to the event.
As did my dinner, which included pork belly, quail and lamb, otherwise known as "everything I like." Which is how a birthday dinner really should be.
After a day like that, Sunday was bound to be a letdown. For one thing, I had already worn all of the shoes I had packed, and I couldn't even repeat the cut-out ankle boots, because on top of everything else it was raining. And by "everything else," I mean the lemon drop/champagne/wine hangover I was sporting. Ibuprofen, you have been a good friend of mine.
But I did manage to struggle out of bed in time for the Anthony Awards brunch, which was a good thing because otherwise I wouldn't have been there to see Sophie win for best first novel, and that would have been a damn shame.
After that, it was pretty much all over but the train ride, so Cameron and I caught a cab to the station, back to home and real life through the first rain of the season. Quite frankly, I'm finding reality to be something of a letdown.
*And books about urban assistant-DA's, but that seems somewhat more likely.
**At least on my birthday.
***The restaurant employs the gimmick of projecting a (usually foreign****) movie on the wall over their patio for ambiance. It's a neat idea, though frankly, the food is good enough that I really don't care how they dress the place up.
****Hence the name.
*****She was a Claudia, I was a Mary Ann.