I couldn’t help but notice, as I was looking over the dashboard to the blog to approve some comments (& blast some junk into oblivion, with some Schwartzenegger like “You’ll be trashed” line in my head), that the corner of the page that details the most often used search results to locate my blog had the following 3 as the top choices:
- “Zachary Steele”, “Author Tour”
- “zachary steele”, “NYC”
- “zachary steele”, “giraffe sex”
Now, please, whichever one of you did the third one, please, please, please, oh for the love of everything holy, please, let me know. BRILLIANT! I don’t know if I’m more amused that it exists, or that it worked. Either way, I’m totally honored to be found under the search heading of “giraffe sex” despite the fact that I have neither written about it, or to my knowledge, had it.
Giraffe sex. Tee hee.
So, my NYC escapades are at an end. No pictures today, nor any from last night. The camera is packed, and the room looks less of a disaster now that everything is placed quasi-neatly in the suitcase. The coffee has finally woken me from my morning stupor, bringing ME to from a late night, and short sleep. Last night at The Tank, I had the 2nd of 2 events, and rounded out a birthday celebration without song or fanfare for the first time since I drove alone to Montana. Harry Terjanian was a hoot and seemed well at ease railing on religion. We were a small group, but one prepared to laugh, and he didn’t disappoint. Though I could cite a number of well delivered punchlines, his run on the disappointment of Easter candy was my favorite. The idea that the large Chocolate Easter Bunnies, are “chocolate covered air” is still cracking ME up.
I plopped MYSELF up on the edge of the stage for what amounted to a cozy little story time with a handful of rapt listeners. I gave the first chapter of Angelic Malcontentsanother go, and am now convinced that it’s going in the right direction. The unicorn-head maid lady (did I hear Andora? or was that Andromeda?) was there again, at MY side as I read. I’m less creeped out by her now, and find MYSELF chatting her up, just in case. You never know. She could be real somewhere, and though I’m not soliciting MYSELF to her, it’s always good to keep an open friendship with any potential unicorn-head maid ladies in the universe. Seems like having one for an enemy could be rather unpleasant. Just sayin’.
So, all in all it was a great trip. Saw plenty. Heard plenty. Talked plenty. Read a lot. And stowed away, for future use, much more story content than even I could have planned for. Thanks to everyone who has kept up, and I look forward to getting home, where MY wife is likely to squeeze ME into an alternate universe, and my dog is likely to have a coronary, after spending nearly 4 days convinced I was never coming home. Time to give up this awesome view of Manhattan, take MY weary butt downstairs, and begin the trek to Laguardia by way of train and bus. Cost savings aside, I’m good for one cab ride per trip here. Already did that, and I think I lost a few years in the process. No need to lose more. I might lose more hair. Not ready for that yet.