Clap Your Hands: 483

I got home from the airport last night (after a very late dinner with Ken) to find a message from Scott: Sarah was at the airport wondering where I was. Oh, crap. Some miscommunication had resulted in her thinking I was arriving a day early.

Well, let’s just keep hoping I do arrive today. Because there was bad weather in Chicago (where I change planes) earlier today, and everything’s backed up. We’re still on the runway in Santa Ana, with an expected 51-minute delay. I had about 45 minutes to change planes in Chicago. A flight attendant said that probably that plane will have been delayed. I hope so. I don’t really want to spend the night in O’Hare. Although I hate having to arrive in Norfolk at some obscene hour tonight.

I have, however, called Sarah to warn her.

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I miss Ken, dammit.

I was all out of sorts last night. Way too many conflicting emotions. (Imagine me saying that with some overly generous hand motions.) I was bloody tired. I was coming down off the writing high and missing Lincoln City and everyone there. I was thrilled to see Ken and despairing at how little time I had at home. I was trying not to worry about unpacking and repacking. I was happy about seeing Sarah soon and feeling awful that she and Fiona had sat at the airport in the middle of the night.

I still kinda feel all that, but less strongly. Mostly I’m just tired, and want to be there.

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In the air now. I’ve had a snack, read the latest issue of _Flytrap_, and I’m listening to my playlist of workout songs on the iPod because they’re bouncy and might help wake me up.

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So, after Ken visited me in Oregon, he headed home by way of Nevada, because he’s weird like that. He was supposed to have left me the camera, but he forgot. He stopped at the side of the road to take pictures, and the bike wasn’t exactly level…

The bike’s just scratched up, so he wasn’t stranded (and he was near a town anyway). He learned the fun of adrenalin when he lifted it back up.

But I think it was karma, because if he’d left the camera with me, it never would have happened.

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In much happier news, at Gyldenholt Anniversary this past weekend, Ken was awarded a Crescent (Grant-level service award)! It was long overdue, and although I’m sorry I missed it, I’m so glad it finally happened. Yay!

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Oh, and Happy Solstice! I think it was tomorrow, actually. I celebrated early by walking on the beach Thursday with a bunch of writers.

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Been musing about a lot of things: perception of self vs. others’ perceptions, positive vs. negative mental tapes, writing speed, the subconscious and art, building my writing career, balance, life experiences. Crap like that. :-) None of it is in any form I can put down on paper, though.