Not my best day vanity-wise, as I wrote behind the scenes to Ruth Anne:
I felt much more haggard and low energy this time, bad hair day, forgot to take my glasses off, feel bad about my neck, tired of looking gap-toothed (would you believe this -- I actually snapped off the tips of my front teeth by holding the clip of a rollerball pen in my teeth and then forgetting it was there and whacking the end of the pen with my hand -- more than once! It's an occupational hazard of being an absent-minded, agonizing writer -- like "tailor's notch"). My best moment was when I scratched my nose . . . Appropriately enough, I vanish at the end, like someone in the red on "Jeopardy," and Ann is left grinning like the victor.
Well, now you know about the teeth, anyway. First and last time I'll complain about all that. It's tiresome.
I loved that they called it "the Slime Mold Edition," based on a political metaphor I got from working for Natural History. (What a gold mine of useful facts that is!) I guess they couldn't call it the "Bl*wjob Test Edition."
You hadda be there. And you can.