Mary Karr did a reading at Harvard Bookstore Monday night. How did I know this? Well, it's been on my calendar for about a month and a half now, and I had sketched out an elaborate fantasy in my head about how I was going to go there and get over my fear of "networking" and I'd talk to her and she would think I was witty and funny, and we'd chat about Syracuse and our dealings with AA and wasting time in marketing jobs and whatever, and I'd casually mention that I was a writer, and she'd be all, "oh, you're funny. I'd love to read your stuff," and so on. I rescheduled a bunch of weekend plans so that I could go to this reading, and YG agreed to babysit. And then....
I fucking FORGOT to go. I just forgot! I didn't even think about it until I got in to work yesterday morning, and I saw, "Mary Karr: Harvard Bookstore! YAY!" in big red ink on my desk calendar.
I'm sure a therapist could have a field day with this and all the self-sabotage angles, but for now, I'm going to take the higher road (eye roll) and chalk it up to stupidity. Maybe you don't like Mary Karr. She has her fair share of critics, but I have devoured everything she's ever written, most recently, Lit, and I was really looking forward to it. Damn it.
Well, at least I saw Rushdie that one time. This one time, at band camp. . .