All children except one . . .

So like I mentioned in my last post, I went to see Guy Gavriel Kay read last night. This was my second time seeing him in person speaking and reading (the first half of the evening consisted of an interview). And I have to say, I really don't know how he does it. He just seems so articulate and more to the point, calm. I just know if I was ever interviewed I would find myself deep into a digression from whence no human could possibly escape. Or telling a thoroughly inappropriate story, or somehow revealing a deep dark secret about myself because at the time I thought it was a funny thing to share.

But anyway.

After, several of us went for drinks in this really lovely, shi-shi (sp?) bar. And it was fun, and very relaxed. I didn't know everyone, but I had met most of them before, and I had Lesley, and then later her significant other John, to take care of me. Or at least talk to me. But it wasn't really necessary as everyone was really nice, and the conversation flowed freely.

And then I disassociated myself, briefly, as I always do, from the situation. Kind of took a step back and took stock. Here I was sitting and chatting with several authors, including Guy himself, several editors, other industry folk, in this very posh bar sitting on a grey bank sofa, drinking a lovely glass of wine. I was perfectly at ease with all this. And at the same time . . . at the same time I kind of felt like I was playing make believe. That I was pretending to be a grown up.

I think a lot of people, no matter what the age can feel like that. And it is so odd because as a kid you never realise that the adults around you are coming to terms with being the age they are, just as you are coming to terms with being the age you are. That they have never been a grown up before. That they don't automatically know what to do.

And yet, and yet, it still felt perfectly right to be where I was, talking as I was, drinking what I was.

It's amazing how you can feel you fit in just fine and at the same time think, "This is my life? Really?" I wonder how uber-celebrities feel when they go to exclusive parties, the Oscars, premieres. Do they ever just shake their heads, look down at their designer duds and wonder how they got into this situation? Or are they not phased at all? I think if it's that latter, then it is quite sad really.

Well I hope I never am entirely comfortable with it. Not in a bad way. There is nothing I hate more than feeling out of place and pointless. I just mean I hope that I always think, "Gee this is sort of special." Even just a little bit. A tiny taste. Like a little bit of salt sprinkled on an already beautifully grilled steak.

(It's lunch time, I can't help it that my thoughts that way tend.)


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Inspired by Leah's question two posts ago, I thought I would start a little game. I am going to post quotes from films and let's see if you guys can figure them out. There will be no tangible prize for the first person to figure them out, but you will earn my unending respect (yes I am well aware you could simply google it, but I have a greater faith in my readers than that).

(Answer to the rhyming question: "No more rhymes now and I mean it!" "Anybody want a peanut?")

Today's quote (this is going to be a tough one, be warned):
"Everyone has a heart. Except some people."