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Can I even begin to tell you how badly I want this desk from OhClementine? So so badly that if I was a richy-rich, I would already own it. But for now, I’ll just covet it and pretend I can run my fingers over those delightful words, over and over. It seems, to me, like the perfect writerly tattoo.


I’m in an odd space right now. Post-holiday limbo, but not in the the way one might expect. I was planning to fly out of Portland last night to land in NY this morning. I should have been arriving at my family’s house just a few hours ago, in fact. But instead it went like this: I woke up seriously sick yesterday morning. First sickness in more than a year, I might add (other than the broken ankle, which doesn’t necessarily count as “sick” I don’t think), and it’s a doozy. Sore throat, stuffy nose, blank head-space, cough. You name it, I’ve got it.

And then most of yesterday spent watching the weather (some website went so far as to call the east coast snow storm “Blizzopolis.” What?) and the airline world. Can I go home, can I not go home, am I (worst case scenario) going to get stuck in Newark for days on end, unable to fly out, coughing my way across the terminals? A few hours before I needed to leave for the airport, the first leg of my flight got canceled. No way to get through Continental to reschedule (their phone line says, “Due to weather, we can’t take your call. Thank you, bu-bai.” and their website says, “Please call us.”). Off to bed, spend some ten hours with the oddest dreams ever, including missing a flight, seeing all of my ex-boyfriends in the same room, and getting yanked off a plane to participate in a fashion show which I won by performing feats of flying in my floor-length dress (thank you, Nighttime Theraflu!?), and then this morning, Continental has rescheduled me to fly out on Jan. 3. The same day I’m scheduled to return. -Insert laughter cue here-.

Right. So, it looks like I won’t be going home for post-holiday celebration. Best case scenario: that Continental will allow me to rebook for sometime later in the year. When a. I’m not sick and b. my family will actually be around. But that leaves me all packed and ready, holiday gifts and goodies rolled up inside my clothing, everything pre-paid and pre taken care of in anticipation for a week away. Which, in a writer’s mind, equals only one thing: Free writing time. Except, of course, that my brain is imploding with sickness and germs, so writing is a little strained (as I’m sure you can tell by this post, which is rambling, to say the very least). But, still, I hope to be better in a day or two and to make the most of it once I can think again.

My plans? To set my goals for 2011. And then to get a jump start on them. I know for a fact that I have two novels planned for the coming year (one new, one a rewrite) and I think I’ll be cranking out some words on them. Sickness invaded braincells notwithstanding, of course.

So, no home for the holidays for me, sadly. But no stuck in the airport sniffling and sneezing either, happily. At this point, I suppose I’ll call it a draw.

What are you doing with your post-holiday space? I hope it’s full of family, friends, good words, and good health. And perhaps even a cute little desk on which to do bad things.

Kiss kiss bang bang, s.