not really. But I was listening to that album earlier. Pink Floyd is groovy.

My cat is howling. Fox is playing sim city 3000 on her lil laptop.

There is air conditioning here. I have finished reading 'Shards of Honor' by Lois McMaster Bujold. Aral and Cordelia Vorkosigan are Wonderous. Life is pretty demmed okie-dokie.

Tomorrow we try to make more money in flea market sorts of ways. My god Jonsie, we might actually pull through.

Oh good. The cat has Silenced for a moment. I think I'll talk about Cordelia for a moment. She has that wonderful quality so rare in literature of being a character first. That is, every once in a while someone will say something to her and it seems as if she blinks and goes 'oh yeah. I'm a girl. Riiiight. Well, here's your orders...'

in her society, there's nothing odd about this, although her husband's is a bit peculiar about it. But she is a very very good sort of soldier. I think that's why her husband likes her.

As for Aral... well, he's Michel Ney. I could think of another way to put it, but probably not when I'm so damned tired. I'm that too. Okie-dokie and tired. Damn. There goes the cat again. It's her time of month too.

Yeah. L'anglais. Cursed brutes.

Puma thwapped me good and hard over the head earlier this week, which is what comes of... hmm, something? I could buy a noun or an adjective, but I am relatively strapped for funds. Let's just say that the puddling angst seems to have evaporated, and don't I feel foolish for trying to drown myself in a heat mirage. I think I need to get my glasses checked.

d-oh.

Oh, and finally, Falconman. He's not mine. He's actually a comic character of Cindy's I'm just borrowing him while I've got all the flutters. You know. Trying to open a can of tuna with my fists and all that. Maybe if I stare at it hard enough, it will open, open sesame...

I managed to type another chapter of the Tower, but I'll not post it until I finish moving The site.

Oh, and-- I'm going to hit Stephen very, very hard, repeatedly, with invisible shoes, unless he curbs /his/ angst. Thank you.

And now, I think perhaps it's time to sleep. Tomorrow's another Big Day!

g'nite Jonsie!

<<agé chose>>

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