Reading in LA

I’m supposed to be at Slake’s reading right now. Stories is right down the street from my house, and I could easily walk there in five minutes, probably less. I’d like to hear Joseph Mattson, and talk to Joe Donnelly.

But it’s raining. And there’s thunder. And my boyfriend took the car to Venice. And I don’t do weather anymore. That’s why I moved here.

Instead, I’ll stay in and eat chocolate and listen to Canadian folk music while reading a galley of Girlvert: A Porno Memoir, compliments of Tyson.

Goodnight.