30th
things i did last week in a room containing two pulitzer prizewinners and many other sorts of intelligent literate-type folk:
(firstly i think it is fair to defend myself by saying that the NYS summer writers institute provides its participants with free booze and baked goods every night, and after a month of this i had become slightly unhinged)
- realized the back-slit in my skirt hit dangerously close to ass-exposing territory. did nothing to fix this.
- told a very dirty story, the punchline of which involved me saying the word “clitoris” very loudly. just as i finished the story, an old couple sat down next to me and said, “excuse me, are you sarah jaffe?” “what huh oh um yes?” i said articulately, assuming they were coming to arrest me for crimes against propriety. turns out they were the very nice parents of my mother’s best friend. they teach at skidmore, and i guess they were told to find me and say hello. they also said they heard teachers saying i was a good writer, which is flattering and awesome and possibly not entirely true.
- went up to get wine, only to find there were no cups, so i took a whole bottle back to my table, despite stares from my teacher (betcha don’t think i’m so talented anymore, huh?), where i poured said wine into a water bottle so i could drink from it. what, you thought i’d swig straight from the bottle? please. i’m no savage.
- was told, completely without irony, “you have a certain elegance about you.” hah. what? this is probably the least true statement anyone could ever make about me.
i won’t wax maudlin about all the reasons the whole experience was good for me (at least not right now), but it was really…educational, for lack of a better word. when am less tired and more collected, i will post responsibly about all the stories i’ve accrued from saratoga and my big giant crush on william kennedy and the novel-in-progress he read us.
i can, however, say right now that i am extremely glad to be back in the bundy palace in the valley. whew.
