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Okay my sweet gulls, I have exactly nine minutes here this morning before I have to splash some water on my face, get back in the car and drive three hours north to scoop up my dogs.

Last night I got in at 10:30 pm after leaving the beach around noon– man, this girl does not like airports, but we know this.

However, I would like to state that I set a new, personal best on the connecting flight in Philadelphia where I literally ran one half of a mile directly into the cockpit and was NOT the last person to board– woot.

I was the SECOND-to-last person to board.*

The week was really good. I, thank the holy roman gods of Atlantis, did not experience quite the transformation I did at this time last year. Rather, I gained new perspectives on myself, my work, as well as got pretty damn raucous and let the yahoos have their day.

Remember Amadeus? Remember how bawdy must counterpoint beatific?
(okay, have to share I am typing so fast here I wrote beatifuck and it cracked me up and? felt appropriate somehow– am thinking one of those yahoos has stowed away in my bags and is here with me now in Provy– consider yourself warned)

Another personal best? I got Jen Gray to laugh so hard it brought her right to the edge of asthma wheeze. And she wasn’t even drunk. That will stand as one my finest achievements, ever.

Last thing and I gotta dash — took Kate’s writing class on Friday which was EXCELLENT<–! and at one point she is talking about how important it is we have a designated writing space, no matter how small and she turns to me and asks, "do you have a place just for writing?" Before I can answer, Amy busts a gut laughing and says, “are you fucking kidding? Her whole apartment is a designated writing space.”

Ahem.

Bisous, E

(*I may or may not have earned that finish line distinction through some unsportsmanlike cut-off on the gangplank, but that shit never goes into the history books, right?).