On Recent Goings. On.

Dear all,

Time to catch up, eh?

Nearly a week later, I'm still overjoyed at my wife's return. She's bastante cool, and I adore her. Not having her around was awful--though, don't get me wrong, I'm very glad that she got to visit her family and enjoy herself for her birthday. And, sure, I get by, without her around, but not very well. To illustrate, in completely ineffective manner: Imagine a day at the beach without waves. You can go, you can splash around, but after a while you say, Hey, why no waves, and the beach really isn't that fun without the waves, it's just like a big brown stupid lake, and it's boring, and you feel all alone, and people ask you at church where your wife is and the house is eerily quiet and and and MELANIE PLEASE DON'T LEAVE AGAIN!

Ahem.

Sorry 'bout that. But now--after quite the ordeal in Dallas, as she's previously blogged--she's back, and happy times are here again.

On Friday, The Center for Writers hosted their monthly "Cafe Night" reading series, wherein authors in the program are invited to read their work. I was asked to read, so I chose "Rigor Mortis: A Thanksgiving Story," my romp about a dude who wants to be buried on Temple Square. I think it went well--several people commented that they liked it, which relieved me, since I was wondering how an LDS-themed story would go over in a bar. (Yes, in a bar--it seems that the English Department would permanently relocate to a bar if they had the chance, since nearly all of the department's functions are held in bars, as it is.) (On a related note, I've started drinking beer.)

After the reading, we went over to a small reception hosted by an acquaintance of mine in the program. (Of course I'm not drinking beer.) It was great--she'd made a cranberry-chocolate biscotti loaf, and, between me and the hostess' dog, it was disappearing pretty fast. (The dog was so cute--it had learned how to roll over and play dead, and I had to reward it with biscotti...)

I'm also very thrilled, very, because my family is coming to visit in a week. Woot! Hallelujah! Salute! M. and I are planning fun excursions; I was trying to find a good Southern barbecue joint to visit, and, when I asked about a famous place in town--it's been featured on The Travel Channel and everything--I was told, "That is good food, and it's been years since they were caught recycling people's iced tea." Yes, apparently the wait staff would go around the restaurant and empty the remnants of patrons' glasses into a communal pitcher and re-use it. But, hey, since I don't drink iced tea, I don't see any problem.

Well, TTFN. Rock on.