Pure As the Driven Slush: Heather Corinna's Journal and Diary, Online since 1999
October 30th, 2006

Well, I’m off to Philly for the COPA trial at an ungodly hour tomorrow morning, where I’ll be doing my level best to represent the interests of women, teenagers, sexuality educators and independent artists in the case. (Hello, underdog.) Glad to be going; obviously glad, per usual, to put my money (or my time, energy and wistful masturbation memoirs, as it were) where my mouth is, ever glad to fight the good fight.

Bit perturbed with timing, though: I have been so in the zone with the book edits, so having it disrupted when I’m so deep in it really kind of sucks. But, flying from one side of the continent to the other means a lot of hours to fill uncomfortably, so I’m hoping that I can get some good editing done en route, especially considering that Mark and I added a leg to the trip, so we’re stopping back in Minneapolis for an abbreviated weekend before we get back home. In toto, we’re looking at 13 hours of flying over a span of six days. Lordy. Will be great to see missed friend-family in Minnesota, but it may be greater to get back here afterwards and cross the finish line with all of the stuff on my plate right now. Seriously, no one should expect to see me anywhere for the month of December. I fully intend to turn my brain completely off and be a total vegetable before my head explodes and my blood pressure goes through the roof.

Do I have Philly readers? I mean, I have Icelandic readers, I have Korean readers, so I must. Not sure how much time I’ll have, but I do know I’ll have Wednesday morning mostly to myself (Mark doesn’t get in until Wednesday night), and since I haven’t been in Philly since I was wee, someone wanting to be a brief tour guide would be a very cool thing. Even just a recommendation as to where one could find vegan meals in or around downtown would be really swell.

While I’m asking for favors, yet another edit around, I could really use a little more consult on some of the chapters. My general approach is that one can never have enough fact-checkers, especially when writing about young adult sexuality given how many biases are at play. Can one or two of you OB/GYNs or clinicians in sexual health who read find an hour or two to go over some sections for me? A shiny thank you in the acknowledgments is in it for you: or some vegan donuts. Or both! I could also really use someone working in eating disorders/self-esteem, and another someone working with rape prevention/crisis counseling as well as another someone working in domestic/relationship abuse issues. If any or all of you people are interested and willing, drop me a line (heatherATheathercorinna.com)? Thanks so, so much.

And with that, I am off to the supreme crazy that is my day: laundry to do, suits to pack — it’s been suggested I look like a grownup for this — housesitter to prepare for, book files to gather, and a dire need to run out and get a triple-shot mocha so I can function this close to properly. Didn’t get much sleep last night, won’t tonight either, and I fail miserably at sleeping on planes unless there’s turbulence and it feels like a car.

P.S. I got all full of nostalgia last night after a long, 13-hour day, and started the process of compiling the art-elements of all the plane and other woo Mark and I did for each other before I moved. I don’t have everything we did scanned, but we have it all here: there’s a lot of it. Don’t expect to get this all done anytime soon. But it’s still very gooeymaking to look at when I’m stressed. And much more uplifting than this sad affair.

P.P.S. Zelig? I’d put one of those cool monkey-with-a-fez bandaids on it, have a laugh with everyone I encountered about the whole works, and forget it was even there in a few moments. So, thanks again. I’ll be bringing the money-fez-bandaid approach to my worries, which I think is exactly the very best thing.

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