I don't know the science, and doubt there is any beyond perspective, but the grass truly does seem greener in Ireland. I'm going. To Ireland. For three weeks. And three days. The dates just came out that way. My two daughters are ecstatic. They love Ireland. It's a little more complicated for me. I'm going with a good attitude, though. That can only help.
I can't wait to see my two sisters. They're twins. We're going to get away together for two nights, just the three of us. Like old times. Only better. We're adults now. We're staying at The Four Seasons in Carlingford Lough. I've never visited Carlingford Lough. I've never stayed at a Four Seasons. The rate for two nights with breakfast and an evening dinner is 99 Euro per person (that's about $130). I think there's been some mistake. Shhhhhh. I hope we get away with it. I'm bringing my swimsuit and sneakers. I'll probably just end up in the bar.
My access to the internet will be spotty over there. I'll miss Zoetrope, Fictionaut, and Blogsville. I'll miss my writing desk and writing every day. Maybe absence will be good :-) Mostly, I'll miss all of you. Feel free to contact me, especially with any submission acceptances-- sorry I couldn't resist that.
I have work going live this week at PANK Magazine (thanks, Roxane); The Northville Review (another class act, thank you, Erin); and Cantaraville (thrilled, Cantara Christopher, go raibh mile a maith agat). I'm also (ahem) on display now at OCHO 25 (the print companion to MiPOesias Magazine) edited by Blake Butler extradonaire. Thanks, Blake.
I'm back in San Francisco August 5th. Until then, take care, be well, and happy writing and living.