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We're about to head out for dinner, Thai or sushi, something spicy and summery, but I wanted to make a quick entry first. I finally remembered what else has to be read — "Breakfast in the House of the Rising Sun," which is being reprinted in an anthology of dark gay erotica. So, yes, two stories really do have to be proofread before my train leaves for Rhode Island.
Fortunately, we're not leaving until Wednesday evening. Spooky got the tickets this afternoon, and we saved a little money by waiting until Wednesday. Apparently fares are getting unstable as we approach Independence Day. That gave us an extra day for all the dren that needs doing.
I was supposed to go shopping today, because I need a few new things, because I never buy clothes. That's one of those things about me that sometimes surprises people. I hate shopping. I hate the stores and the salespeople and the other customers and the lighting and looking at myself in dressing-room mirrors and the moment when the cash register rings up the inevitable total. I hate it all. I much prefer shopping via the internet, and I do so whenever possible. It's so much easier to order online than to brave the mall. This works really well for my more esoteric articles of clothing — corsetry, Victoriana, fetishy stuff, etc. — but not so well for those practical, everyday clothes. So, sooner or later, usually only once or twice a year, I am forced to shop.
I'd rather...well, you really don't want to know the things I'd do to get out of shopping. And if you do want to know, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Spooky just interrupted me and took the following picture. The digital camera shall be the death of me.
Portrait of the Artist as a Blonde. And speaking of which, my thanks to everyone for their comments yesterday on the new hair. You are a persuasive lot. I believe I'm going to give it a chance. I'm starting to get used to it.
Last night's Kid Night movie was the fairly ghoulish Shuang tong (aka, Double Vision). We only did one movie, so we'd have more time for Riddick and Butcher Bay. Even so, we were up until four a.m. We reached the hanger, where there were two very pissed off mech guards waiting, at which point I announced it was time to sleep. We may actually finish the game by tomorrow night. It still rocks.
Now. I go eat.
Fortunately, we're not leaving until Wednesday evening. Spooky got the tickets this afternoon, and we saved a little money by waiting until Wednesday. Apparently fares are getting unstable as we approach Independence Day. That gave us an extra day for all the dren that needs doing.
I was supposed to go shopping today, because I need a few new things, because I never buy clothes. That's one of those things about me that sometimes surprises people. I hate shopping. I hate the stores and the salespeople and the other customers and the lighting and looking at myself in dressing-room mirrors and the moment when the cash register rings up the inevitable total. I hate it all. I much prefer shopping via the internet, and I do so whenever possible. It's so much easier to order online than to brave the mall. This works really well for my more esoteric articles of clothing — corsetry, Victoriana, fetishy stuff, etc. — but not so well for those practical, everyday clothes. So, sooner or later, usually only once or twice a year, I am forced to shop.
I'd rather...well, you really don't want to know the things I'd do to get out of shopping. And if you do want to know, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Spooky just interrupted me and took the following picture. The digital camera shall be the death of me.
Portrait of the Artist as a Blonde. And speaking of which, my thanks to everyone for their comments yesterday on the new hair. You are a persuasive lot. I believe I'm going to give it a chance. I'm starting to get used to it.
Last night's Kid Night movie was the fairly ghoulish Shuang tong (aka, Double Vision). We only did one movie, so we'd have more time for Riddick and Butcher Bay. Even so, we were up until four a.m. We reached the hanger, where there were two very pissed off mech guards waiting, at which point I announced it was time to sleep. We may actually finish the game by tomorrow night. It still rocks.
Now. I go eat.
