Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
A minute later Sarah burst in. “Oh my God, I’m sorry to crash your party but arrrghhhhhhhh!” She made a long, low scream of frustration. “I had to get away from my mother.”
Jordan shooed her toward the table, where there were more chairs than people, while he went to get another wine glass. “I thought there was some chance you might show up.”
( Read the rest of this entry » )Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
The word came via voice mail a few days later that Ziggy was flying to New York on Monday, so I called Sarah to see if she was around for the weekend and if she wanted company. She said yes and yes, so I got on a train on Friday morning (where by morning I mean 12 noon) with a guitar and a book (and then slept the whole way anyway).
I thought I heard a camera shutter snapping when I walked up to the lobby of her building. The door man greeted me like he remembered me. He was a slim hispanic man with very short cropped hair and creases around his eyes.
“You might want to check for paparazzi,” I told him. “In the bushes or something.”
( Read the rest of this entry » )Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.
(Saturday post! I realized I had neglected to count some of the Paypal donations! So guess what? The final total was actually $257 from Paypal. Add that to the Kickstarter total of $5,258 and you get $5,515! So we really did completely meet all stretch goals! To celebrate how amazing you all are, here’s a Saturday post! -ctan)
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The meeting with Feinbaum was useless. Carynne and I went to his office for it. I had jokingly asked her if that meant I should wear something without any holes or something with. (Without.) The weather was stupidly hot and inside his office it was refrigerator cold, suitable only for people wearing three-piece suits, I guess, which neither Carynne nor I were. Feinbaum had seemed rushed, like he didn’t have time for us, and I was just as glad to get out of there quickly anyway.
We got in Carynne’s car in the depths of a parking garage where it was slightly cooler than outside and I asked, “Do you get the feeling he didn’t really want to talk to us?”
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