D.C.

One tries to be nice. One gets bitten on the ass. There's a lesson to be learnt somewhere (don't be nice, ever?). I really should know better, but sometimes I too make errors in judgment.

And so, back in NYC a day before schedule.

I do have so much to share about the Book Festival. It was a thrilling experience for somebody like myself - John Irving right there in front of me - talking about his books and creative process. I still can't believe it was really the author of Hotel New Hampshire I saw there, wearing jeans and talking about how he can't really draw, but gave some lady in Amsterdam tattoos anyway (they were stars apparently).

Maybe tomorrow when I'm less upset.