The universe conspires against me. This I have suspected for a long time, and as the years go on, I receive more and more confirmation of this fact. Take Sunday for example...

I had very optimistic plans to attend the write-athon at The Lucky Cat, the red hued bar of razorart. It seemed like a good catalyst. I haven't been the most ambitious of writers as of late (thanks, video game industry!) and it seemed just the thing to put me back in the swing. There would be livejournal people there, three of my friends, and I'd get to meet the razor on top of it all.

*cue Mission: Impossible theme*
The G train is my best bet from Jackson Heights so I write down directions from there. Thing is, after 40 minutes and at least 10 R trains (a rarity in itself), I got nothing. Haven't moved an inch, unless you count the pacing on the platform. Ever the man of action, I decide to ride to Queens Plaza. Maybe something will be going on there, and it would be the last turn off for the G towards Brooklyn. Or I could catch a cab.

Nope. Nothing happening. I could throw in the towel, but at this point I am too determined to do this thing.

Last ditch thought, I decide to take the 7 to Grand Central. Where I proceed to fight for a cab no less than half an hour. FINALLY, I luck into a cab.
I give him the address and tell him i BELIEVE it is in Williamsburg, not that I KNOW it is. This is important because when we get over the Williamsburg bridge, he wants me to tell him how to get there. I tell him I didn't KNOW and we then drive around until I see one of the three streets from my directions. I get out, twenty bucks lighter.

So I left at 2:30 and arrived at 5. Pretty sad for what turned out to be a 10 minute cabride home in the end. I thought the original time wat 3-7 but the board outside says 3-5, so technically I've missed it, but I no longer care. I set up shop and get in two hours of writing.

Notable moments:

*Meeting Joi- she is not nearly as surly as her journal makes her out to be, although she'd probably kick my ass if I dared call her sweet

*Everyone who said they'd be by, didn't show.. no big, as writing is a solitary thing

*The Cars song Drive- I hadn't heard it in years, but I cried when it played. It's terribly depressing as songs go, about a break up, but for me it has even more meaning. It was the video of it back in 1985 that made my mom cry while she was going through her divorce and she passed away several months later. I had forgotten that trigger even existed anymore.

* Let's not forget, I did get some writing done. That counts for something

* Cheap and tasty drinks in a supercoo' environment, can't beat that!