I’ve finally done it. I’ve sent off my first query letter. It was a test of my bravery, and now we shall see. Soon, I’ll compile a list of agents and send out about 25 more queries, but I’ve conquered my fears and sent off the first.
And now I want a vacation. Don’t I deserve one? I have this great lonely feeling inside that’s telling me that I need to be alone. It’s a little ironic; I understand that. I can’t help what my nagging loneliness does to me. Then, of course, I can’t really help that I feel lonely when I’m surrounded by people all the time. I am, too: children, husband, parents, dogs, cat, friends.
I need a potted meat getaway. This is an impossibility right now due to economic factors, which I’m certain won’t surprise anyone. So I’ll dream–and plan. I’ll make a packing list for my trip.
-1, no make that 2 bottles of Merlot
-3 cans Libby’s corned beef
-3 tart apples
-3 potatoes for baking
-1 container hummus
-1 package brown rice crackers (due to wheat allergy)
-1 box Earl Grey tea
-1 book of Yeats’s poetry in case I get stuck
–The Rape of the Lock for inspiration
(must get back from friend who stole it)
-box of Emergen-C to prevent carpal tunnel
-cod liver oil (in caps) for same as above
-1 light jacket for walks in any weather
-favorite t-shirt with image of Tejano acordionista
-toothbrush and tooth powder (aka baking soda)
It has occurred to me that I would like to be lonely on my potted meat getaway–at the loneliest place on earth–the Oregon coast. Why is it lonely there? It rains 64 in. a year. Can you imagine? I used to live there–though I grew up in Portland, where it rains over 40 in. a year. Despite what people say, it rains more often in Portland than in Seattle. It rains more in Portland than in London, Cardiff, or Dublin. The Oregon coast, Coos County specifically, is wetter by double than London.