shaken & stirred

welcome to my martini glass


I am working on Christopher's Valentine's Day present, which will involve Kinko's (now just a block away!), and he's going to read this and not even know what it is. That makes it even more fun.

Home today, because last night was a parade of Bad Things. First, my uncle was rushed into surgery for a rush quintuple bypass here in town, so we went over and sat around and I tried my best not to be inappropriate with the humor. Though I've never been very good at that in hospitals. My experience in hospitals has usually tended to involve sunny departures in daylight, condition improved. With one major exception. Mostly, when the bad stuff has happened in hospitals, I haven't been there, and so I tend to forget that other people are nervous just being there. Anyway, this side of my family knows me well enough to expect and kind of shake their heads when I burst out laughing, making my cousin laugh too, because some annoying old guy is yammering about nothing into her ear while her dad's in surgery.

Then we came home, got to bed very late. Two hours later, George gets very agitated. He keeps waking us up. We keep letting him outside. He eventually calms down, and we call the animal hospital just in case and tell them yada. Of course, by the time we get them on the phone, he seems normal. I figure it was just a case of nerves and changed diet and new place. That would give anyone a little panic attack.

So, I didn't want to leave George alone all day, and was tired as hell this morning... So, here I am.

And I finished a short story, yay! It's been so long since I finished anything, anything that wasn't a script that will take weeks and weeks to rewrite anyway. And I like this story, though it's odd and dark and funny and maybe not even speculative at all. I have no idea where I'll send it. It's a love story too, of a sort, and so fitting for the holiday.

And all the books are on their shelves in alphabetical order (or close, I was never good with that; I still sing the song), yay! There was finally enough bookshelf space. That might even be enough for a few weeks if we don't go bookshopping.

Did I mention there are wonderful books we have to give away? Avram Davidson and Karen Fowler and John Collier and etc. etc. etc. and you can get something if you do one of two things. Ask me to send you something or order a copy of one of our zines when we're out of stock. (We always send extra goodies cause we feel guilty.) I really don't want to use our scant extra bookshelves saving all these books. I want to give. Isn't that a beautiful thing? So, participate, damn it.

And well, I believe that's all. Mr. George the Dog is going to get a bath and fluff and smell nicer and Christopher's going to come home and collapse because he didn't get to sleep in like I did and I will conference call like a good little girl even though I'm not at work.

Oh, and I got Susan-Marie's comments link wrong yesterday, so here's the right one.


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