When celebrity comes to town, we get a babysitter

Friday night, Husband's parents came over to babysit. Can you say Date Night? I knew you could. (I :heart: the ILs!) He and I met friends for dinner and went to see David Sedaris. In DULUTH! Minnesota! I've heard him on the radio, I've got him reading his things on tape, and I've heard recordings of his readings, but there's nothing like seeing him live.

How someone his height can slouch so much is beyond me. I do believe he could walk the streets of New York (not like that, gutter brain!) and not be noticed. That's actually a useful trait for a writer, but really, it hurt my back to see him.

Did you know he wrote poetry?

Dachshund Skip from Winnipeg
Loves to hump his master's leg.
Every time he gets it up, he
Stains Bill's calf with unborn puppy.


Oh, it is to laugh.

It was an exercise in editing for me. As in: edit your shit and it will be better. I know this. I know that just barfing my posts out like I do isn't likely to produce anything spectacular, but you shouldn't edit your journals, right? The important posts I can work on and shape them carefully, but the daily "Hey, guess what happened?" posts seem like they should be off the cuff.

So they are. Suck it.

At any rate, he read the first line from a story he'd been working on but said it wasn't going in the direction he wanted, and I though to myself, "Self, he edits his work. You, too, could be like David Sedaris if you'd get off your lazy ass and put some time into your writing." So maybe I will. Watch this space for it. Maybe.