WHAT A WEEKEND!

Book tour continued with an event at the Mission Creek Festival in Iowa City and a makeup event at the Tara Theatre in Atlanta. In Iowa City I was greeted by redwing blackbirds, bald eagles, migrating cranes, and some of the most exciting, thought provoking writers in America. My conversation partner was Melissa Febos who absolutely slays me… And as if that wasn’t enough we had a beforehand backstage hangout with the mighty Rachel Yoder as well the venue chief, Nina Lohman. The next morning Stacey and I even had the pleasure of traveling to Chicago with Torrey Peters, who was also speaking at the festival. The warm and fuzzy hummed on the edge of desperate because I live very rurally and don’t have the same kind of concentrated writing/music community big cities and college cities provide. I just didn’t want it to end. All of these women are so smart, warm, funny and captivating. What a privilege to engage with every single one of them. READ THEIR BOOKS! I would be lying if I didn’t admit to wondering if I should just move to Iowa City next… Haha. 

I hadn’t had many disruptive plane issues in a while but this trip made up for it. If anything is gonna go wrong flying in the United States, odds are the tail of the bad luck beast is tied to O’Hare, the airport where large swaths of my life have passed me by. Our flight to Atlanta was slightly delayed which put us in ATL at the same time as a massive storm. Air traffic control made us circle until we ran out of gas and had to land in Greenville. No big deal. The small deal stretched on for hours until it became a big deal. We were gonna be very late unless we took action. I had already missed this event once due to illness and the kind folks putting it together were good enough to reschedule. I was desperate to make it. Stacey checked rental car availability. Atlanta was about two and a half hours away. We could make it but we couldn’t take our bags that were under the plane. Just when we were about to abandon ship the captain announced there was a break in the weather and we could now land in ATL. We made it and the event happened just a half hour after it was supposed to. My hosts, Virginia Prescott and A Capella Books were so gracious and the audience was lovely. I had a great time talking to Virginia and was likely a little wobbly due to my all day confinement, but I felt so held by all the kind folks at the event. Thanks to everyone of you who came out to both events. I had such a great time with you all. 

The next day I went with Stacey and visited my friend, Kiki’s incredibly inspiring art studio and savored the biscuits of Atlanta before I had to meet up with Kim, the music director of the Thelma and Louise musical I’m working on, to iron out some pre-rehearsal kinks and watch some casting video clips. (There are no such things as “days off”) When we were done Kim and I met Kiki and Stacey for a rare “night out” eating burgers and the world was beautiful. We finished just before loud bar trivia began which was a victory. Oh, those fried pickles…. Swoon.

Flying back to O’Hare the next day was the same shit show as the last. Late planes, broken planes etc. I was either sitting on the aircraft or in the airport for as long as it would have taken me to fly to Japan. Not an exaggeration. Do you wanna see bad behavior? Just hop on any flight. Many of the spoiled folk who travel think they aren’t living by the same rules as the rest of us; people making loud calls during take off, not waiting until your head isn’t in the way to wrench their bags out of the overhead bin, people coming over to talk to their friends loudly, in your face, as if you weren't there. And when did people forget how to disembark from a plane or basic physics?! Most anywhere else people seem to know that two bodies cannot occupy the same physical space as one? On the flight to ATL I watched Stacey get so fed up with one golfy dishrag that she just stood up and insisted he take her seat for a while. He did without hesitation completely oblivious to how aggressively rude he was. (I wish I had the kind of cool Stacey has, but alas…)

This next leg of travel had a different set of bad, or it was just more bizarre maybe? I was sitting next to a family with two young kids at my gate waiting to board the plane to Burlington for the first time. I was enjoying the kids, they were about a year and a half and two and a half. They were playing with their mom and pretty much just being adorable. We had been sitting there so long it felt like I was traveling with them. Then suddenly, without any warning, the father nudged the older girl over to the empty seat in between us and had her grab the edge and bend over. He pulled back the elastic of her pants and gave her a sniff. Not unusual. I see parents traveling do this all the time… but then, he grabbed a wet wipe, and to my horror, he proceeded to reach down into her pants and fish out a handful of kid poop. What the fuck was happening?! We were right across from the bathroom! This had to be breaking all kinds of CDC (when we had one) contagion and sanitary laws? I was paralyzed with disgust and awe. I neither breathed (of obvious reasons) nor twitched. (So this is what the “freeze” felt like in ‘flight, flight or freeze!”) 

I didn’t get to dwell in the freeze too long as it was finally time to board. We got on the plane and there were technical issues, so we sat on the plane for hours, yet again. After eons went by they announced they were getting us a fresh new plane so we would be getting off. We were now two and a half hours late. United sent us a twenty dollar digital meal voucher too late to get any food as everything was closing and the gate agent announced we would be leaving out of a different gate, way far away, as most gates are at O’Hare. It’s a real cardio blast. At that airport I’m always covered in a sheen of sweat like a kill-pen hog, (That’s not a real saying, thank god) bags heavy, and usually in a time crunch. Gate B 15, FINALLY! I sat on a really long smooth bench far away from other people. I breathed. Folks were milling about trying to find food. There was a smoothie place across the way with premade sandwiches that seemed to be the only game in town. All the lighting everywhere was dim and confusing. I noticed a man coming my way. I thought he might be approaching to ask me a question as I was pretty far from other people. Instead, he just came and stood nearby and began to unwrap his sandwich. Ok… He then set the plastic on the seat next to me and placed his now open sandwich on it. One half tuna fish, the other sad bread. I froze a second time and took in the truly bizarre, slo-mo scene unfolding in front of me. He stuck a condiment packet in his mouth and tore it open. He then stood back a little, and like Jimi Hendrix,  power-squirted the mayo on the sad bread like it was lighter fluid. My hatred of both tuna and mayo is well known so what are the odds? Not to mention there were so many other chairs! There were even empty tables! He took his sandwich down the way and rejoined his party? 

I got home at two-thirty in the morning and passed out hard. I fucking earned it! I slept and slept and might go to sleep again! Coco is the captain of my nap team and is good to go at any time. I only ventured out once to go to town. I saw that the vultures are back. They aren’t the most obvious harbinger of spring but still my favorite. They circle and wheel their way north up above the highways and river valleys in groups. I pulled back into my driveway and noticed the beaver swimming across the pond. I stopped to watch and felt a calm come over me. I love the beaver family so much. In front of the house I saw a bluebird of such a startling hue it hurt my feelings. “Happy Spring,” he whispered. “I’ll clean out a bird box for you in the morning,” I promised.

A little blurry drive-by shot of three of my faves! Carter, Puddles and Kaepernick! Thank you, Atlanta!