The mad panic of trip prep has officially begun. I’ll be leaving for NYC on October 7th. From there I’m taking a train to Baltimore for B-Con
and then after that it’s back to NYC and off to Germany to promote the German edition of MONEY SHOT, called HARDCORE ANGEL.
Don’t worry, before I leave I’ll post a complete schedule of both my B-Con panels and the German events. It’s on The List.
The List is the only way that I can possibly accomplish everything I need to do before I leave. The damn thing seems to be getting longer rather than shorter because for every item I cross off, two more things get added. I have pets to make arrangements for and chores to catch up on. I’ve got panel prep and packing and girl-tech. Not to mention the two books I’m trying to simultaneously write, one of which is due the first of December. Oh and the four additional day-job projects that need to be finished before I leave. Sleep is for pussies.
But, in the good news department, I now have TEETH!!! Well, temporary teeth, anyway. Because my real porcelain implants won’t be ready in time for my trip, my amazing dentist agreed to provide me with temporary but non-removable teeth that attach directly to the implant screws. They are not as pretty as the finals will be and I still can’t bite into an apple, but they’re a billion times better than the removable retainer-like deal. Best of all, I can now eat without having to remove my front teeth! I’ll actually be able to enjoy the tasting menu at Jean Georges NYC
without sporting the Daisy Mae Methteeth look. The only downside to all this was the fact that screwing the temps into the still traumatized and not-really-healed-yet tissue and bone was by far the most painful procedure yet. I should have waited another two weeks minimum, but it’s my own damn fault. I really wanted real teeth for my trip.
In other good news, I scored some hot new threads for the tour from Tarantula Clothing.
They ended up being sold out of several items I had originally wanted, but the second-choice stuff I wound up with is still to die for. I’m particularly in love with the high-waisted Sex Kitten Capris.
Their customer service rocks and their clothing rules. Mistress Christa says check em out!