Santa Cruz was awesome. I didn't worry about anything! The whole weekend! It was amazing! We played cards, and Trivial Pursuit, and drank lots of wine, and ate amazing food prepared by our kind hosts Scott and Lynne, and walked around downtown, and generally quit fretting.

Didn't get much work done, of course, but I didn't expect to, so it's okay. Late last night I did some layout work for Jenn's chapbook, and it's coming along nicely. I've been reading Monster Island by David Wellington. Making loads of notes for my story for Klima's spelling bee anthology. Hope to get a draft of that done this week.

I got a call last night from a woman who runs a local reading group for seniors -- they've been meeting for twenty years! They read short stories, and they just did Best American Short Stories. They saw in my bio that I was local, looked me up in the phone book, and gave me a call. They want me to come talk to the group. Could be fun, if I can figure out the scheduling (they meet in the morning on a weekday when, normally, I'm at work). Nice to be asked, anyway.

Today is the 100th anniversary of the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake. It's a fascinating subject that I've read a fair bit about (and I managed to use some of the research in my book Blood Engines). Take a moment today to think about the human spirit of rebuilding in the face of destruction. It's an admirable quality, and one that seems more pertinent every time I read the newspaper.

As for my waiting? I'm still waiting. The waiting might stop sometime this week. Hard to say.