So, I’ve been in a bit of a funk since we got home from Saints & Sinners Literary Festival this past Monday. On the one hand, the festival is an inspiring gathering of writers and book lovers. On the other hand, by the time we got home after a ten-and-a-half-hour drive, New Orleans seemed a million miles away.

I haven’t gotten much writing done this week, which adds to the funk. I’ve written a couple scenes, a bunch of character sketches for the novel, and worked on an article for a friend’s newsletter. It seems like wherever I’ve been, I’ve wanted to be someplace else.

But there’s a reason for that, too. This morning I’m flying to San Francisco to see Kylie Minogue in concert this evening. It’s a whirlwind trip: I fly out this morning, the concert’s tonight, and my flight back is at six tomorrow morning. I haven’t done anything impulsive like this in a long time, but seeing Kylie is a bucket list item for me. Traveling light, I’ve just got a carry-on with a book, a notebook, a magazine, and my toothbrush.

How Egyptian.

My friend Tricia calls going to San Francisco to see Kylie “summiting gay Everest.” I can’t say she’s wrong. And I’m sure the view from the top will be stunning.