The hotel rooms in New York are crazy! To stay in a hotel of the class I’m accustomed during my solo travels, it’s something like a gazillion dollars a night. And half of me wants to just pony up a couple of grand and hide in the Waldorf Towers all weekend and the other half of me wants to be frugal and sleep under a park bench so that I can go crazy on Fifth Avenue. I’ll figure something out. And a great deal of this mood buffer is due to the fact that Joe at Barrelhouse wrote a very sweet e-mail telling me that he was excited that I was actually coming and that he’s putting my bio on the event’s advertising.
Which sort of makes me laugh because bios are just silly and really, does anyone read them?
I always feel like an asshole writing them, because a) writing about yourself in third person automatically is sort of assy and b) I never know what to say in them so usually end up saying something silly to deflate the entire process and then when I reread it later, I think I come off as though I’m making light of the thing and that instead of being assy, I sound very much like I have a case of full blown ass. The bio for the last reading, I said something about liking toast with peanut butter and bananas (which is actually very accurate and says more about me than the fact that I have a cat). In this one, I said that I had a cat and then I made fun of the word “blogosphere”.
What a fucking ass.