There is a dog on my shoulder.
I dyed my hair last night in preparation for today’s excitement. I had to. The gray is not so much gray anymore but silver, and it had been rather shocking. This is a better look, I think. And I wanted to look good: The Romance Writers of America Conference started today!
Luckily, it started with a knitting meet-up, or I think I might have expired of nerves. I met up with Theresa, Bronwyn, and Tara at the Marriott and I took them on an abbreviated tour of the city — Artfibers, Imagiknit, and Taqueria Cancun. No yarn trip is ever complete without Mexican food, I always say.
Back at the conference, I wandered and met people. I was worried that meeting writers would be hard, but I swear, it was as easy as meeting knitters. And in Imagiknit, I did both: I met a woman named Patricia (who was wearing a lovely February Lady Sweater) who was in town attending the convention with Debbie Macomber, who was right there and fondled the yarn I was holding.
I ended the day bringing home nothing but the new Knitscene magazine (I really like that one, do you?). And I outed myself a couple of times, something I’ve been vaguely worried about. With fellow knitters, I wasn’t worried. But I had a long conversation with a loud, opinionated, very cool Cuban woman, and decided to try it out. "You know, it’s weird, I write straight romance, but I’m married to a girl." She just leaned forward and asked, "What is THAT like?" Then she proceeded to tell me about the straight woman writer she was working with who wrote gay male erotica. It’s a different world, I tell you. A good one.
I am tired. I want a glass of wine and maybe some sushi. I most definitely do NOT want to go out to buy dog food, but I fear an uprising if I don’t.
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