Good morning! I could do with much, much, MUCH more sleep as I was as I was up very late last night doing emergency edits for work. I'm about to wander into the office, make sure everything is fine and then leave so that I might rest, clean the house, spend time with cats, and otherwise BE A HUMAN.
Apparently, I've managed to get both my melancholy and mania a bit out of my system. Europe is exciting (I've been hunting for flights for Patty for her hop to CH); Dogboy & Justine is under control; the landlord finally cashed the rent check; etc. Tomorrow morning Patty and I have a digital date!
The NYMF closing party is Sunday. I don't know what to wear. Unlike the opening party, this is not a THING, but I should still figure it out. (I say this now; watch, because I am unprepared and not giving a shit, this be a THING. Just watch.)
Are you anywhere near New Haven? If you are (and you are in if you are in New York City), you should go to the Regency Assembly in New Haven. I am not sure I'll make it, due to work obligations and recording Inception: The Musical, but I'm sure going to try. But go, IT IS AWESOME.
My Princess Boy is a kids book used as an anti-bullying tool in schools. A mom wrote it in response to the fact that her young son likes to dress us like a princess. Short article and video interview about it. The mom is super-honest about her process and initial discomfort with it, which is actually really cool. "There is more than one way to be a boy; there is more than one way to be a girl." Word.
I have come to the conclusion that product reviews on the Internet are basically useless. No. REALLY. Because there's only two types: "Best thing ever!" and "HATE HATE HATE" and no one saying either is necessarily rational. You just have to close your eyes and make a choice. I find that trying.
My mobile got a lot of rain in it yesterday, and now depressing the track ball isn't making stuff go. I can still hit the enter key, but I am annoyed. Will it self-repair as it dries out?
Another awesome picture with chite from my HS reunion:
You should have seen the looks I got from people when I exhibited the gallows humor that got me & my mom & dad through his battle with Cancer, which ended 5 years ago with his passing.
Oh, I don't doubt it. But given the inherently absurd nature of cancer (rogue cells enthusiastically bringing about their own demise by killing the host in which they are running amok) why WOULDN'T you take that approach? Was anyone huffy enough to scold your late father for it?
When I sat and read a friend's copy of Susan Sontag's "Illness as Metaphor", it was this weird, "oh, I'm not the only person who noticed that" feeling. We have always been weird about cancer, even now when we know what it is.
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chite from my HS reunion: 
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When I sat and read a friend's copy of Susan Sontag's "Illness as Metaphor", it was this weird, "oh, I'm not the only person who noticed that" feeling. We have always been weird about cancer, even now when we know what it is.