
So when I dropped by the hospitality suite on Sunday, THIN AIR staff person Tavia Palmer did two very important things:
1) She posed underneath the see-thru glass sink in the bathroom, which made me happy because it was blog-worthy.
2) She made me sign for my author bag. Which made me happy, and, as it turns out, is blog-worthy.
It should go without saying that I'm honoured to be reading at the festival this year. But I think I should say it.
And then roll around on the all the goodies in the author bag like I was Demi Moore and I just got a million dollars for sex. In paroxysms of desperate glee. Yes...

...except the author bag had a mug in in, which would probably work best in my cupboard with all the THIN AIR mugs I've accumulated from years of HOT AIR-ing for the fest.
After it's been washed, that is. And I'll probably use the pad for grocery lists, as I've used other THIN AIR note pads, as I prefer a full-sized notebook for my lit jottings. (Specifically, black with a spine and lined paper. NOT a moleskine.)
And the pen will rattle around the bottom of one of my bags. And be used for lit jottings AND for grocery lists.
I don't think the feeling-honoured will get used up the same way. Because I've been dreaming of reading at THIN AIR for a long time. And the festival has been very kind to me.
(The Poetry Bash! An Afternoon Book Chat! i.e. JUST what I would have chosen to do, if I'd been asked...)
Of course, I hope that kindness is because of the work and not because of this impertinent blog or the years of impertinent volunteering or because I work at Aqua impertinently. Because the (impertinent) work is what's most important.
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