Uh oh… I’ve been left unsupervised… PARTY AT DI’S HOUSE! Hmmm, tempting, tempting, except that upholsterer absconded with our couch over four weeks ago and hasn’t been seen since, so there’s nowhere to sit except my lap, and look, I’m just not that kind of girl…
But LBJ is currently winging his way to Hong Kong for the rubgy test between Australia and New Zealand, which means that I am footloose and fancy-free for the weekend… Naturally I booked a hair appointment for this happy day exactly six weeks ago, so that will kick off the festival of freedom nicely. Not that Llew keeps me in manacles or anything; it’s just a reasonably novel event after nearly 12 years together to find myself swingin’ solo. He’ll be the same, I think. Wandering around Hong Kong lost, looking for the fairy who folds his underwear…I hope he remembers to eat something.
So the plan is this: girls’ night tonight, oh yes, bring it on. You would think none of us had ever been out before in our lives from the excitement. I feel like I am suppressing a squeal, and trust me, I don’t really do the whole clapping, high-pitched thing. But that mounting mood of anticipation is palpable… it’s just four of us, and we’re not exactly planning a night on the tiles, just a civilised dinner with some drinks, and still you’d think it was Christmas. Only much, much better.
Saturday I’m planning to keep it local. I’m going to sleep in, and then I’m going to go for a run and a swim. Afterwards I’ll go to Harris Farm Market and stock the fridge with goodies. Stone fruit. Berries. All my favourite things. After that I plan to swing in the hammock, listening to records, reading the paper and/or a book, and enjoying the ocean breeze. I plan to spin that out for several languid hours. Saturday night I’d quite like to watch the rugby, but I’d prefer to go to a friend’s place up the road if they’re around. Not sure if they are, which means my Saturday night venue is TBA. Whatever happens, I’m not sure I can be arsed leaving Man Town. Once I knock off work and walk away from my desk for the week, this place is once again transformed into my home, not my office, and generally speaking there are few places I’d rather be.
Sunday… Sunday’s a good one. I’m back up in Katoomba Monday for an all-day ‘Pathways to Publication’ seminar, run by Varuna, because I need all the help I can get. I’m hoping it’ll be full of worthwhile information and food for thought. Also I get to catch up with Peter Bishop, which will be lovely, and I’m hoping to meet some other Varuna Alumni too. Basically it all comes back to that ‘community of writers’ thing I’ve been banging on about. The more the merrier. So instead of waking up at 5 am on Monday to get up to Katoomba by 9, I’m heading up early. There’s nothing keeping me at home without my Llewie, so I thought I’d do some travel writing instead, and asked one of my editors if he’d be interested in a weekend getaway piece. He said okay, so now I’m checking in at Echoes for the night. It’s a superb looking property, and I can’t wait to get my room key. I love hotels. I love good hotels even more. I even dedicated a whole chapter of my PhD thesis to them, so I plan to get full mileage out of this one. Unfortunately, they’re not even half as fun without my partner in crime, but I’m determined to valiantly struggle on without him! Duty calls! Yes, I love my job. I really do.
So… I’ll be back here with a new post Tuesday 4 November, hopefully armed with all sorts of weaponry for getting my manuscript in front of the right people at the right time. To that end, it’s that time of the year again: my application went up yesterday for the Varuna HarperCollins Manuscript Development Awards. You may remember I entered last year and didn’t make the long list. I feel a whole range of emotions now I find myself, a whole year later, entering the exact same thing. I just keep telling myself that although the competition hasn’t changed, my manuscript certainly has, and maybe this time will be different. Maybe it won’t, but maybe it will. And when you’ve got nothing to lose, that’s more than enough.