I flew home yesterday into a long hug from Malcolm, into a quick ("easy, Mom") hug from Andrew, just in time for Valentine's Day. The night before I was lucky enough to read at The Mountain in Los Angeles. There, we celebrated St. Vermintine's Day, a creation of my again-friend, Jim Ruland, and Melissa Bell, my favorite new Canadian. The club's red and warm, what it might feel like to stand inside a living heart - walls bleeding red paint, red plastic chandeliers, the greatest multi-colored triangularly tiled floor - oh, hell, here's a photo. I'm a terrible describer.

Also reading were Carlye Archibeque (Punk rock poet), and Meghan Daum, whose essays I'd read and admired last year. I subbed for the tall, brave and missing Susannah Breslin. What did I read, you ask? (And even if you didn't.) A revision of RV, and Gondola, both of which are part of my novel.