Recently, Entertainment Weekly decided to rank 'the new classics,' and made lists of the '100 Most Influential' bits of various media in the last few decades. They had a list of movies, a list of books, a list of TV series, and so on. This, naturally, made me think, because their list looked absolutely nothing like mine would.

You know what comes next.

Books on this list aren't necessarily high literature; they're not necessarily classics; they're not even necessarily particularly good, although I think the bulk of them are. They're just the books that combined to construct a me. They are, in short, not the books I was supposed to fall in love with; just the ones that I did.

Your list will probably be drastically different. You may still want to take a look at mine. You might just find a few things that will surprise you.

( Click here for Seanan's list of 100 books that have influenced and rocked her world, and which may have influenced and rocked yours. Complete, in some cases, with commentary. Because she can, that's why.Collapse )

Now, as I am Going To New York to do Very Important Business, for which I have purchased a suit and shoes and everything, it seemed best that I do something to make my hands look less like the hands of someone who regularly goes rooting through mud puddles after frogs, IE, 'less like my hands.' So I went to get my first manicure.

It turns out that manicures are pretty awesome. First, dangerous, pointy objects are used to clip and shape the nails until they are all essentially the same length. This means that I now have no fingernails to speak of, but dammit, they match. Then, caustic chemicals are used to soften and dissolve the cuticles. SOFTEN AND DISSOLVE, PEOPLE! So very awesome.

Once the cuticles have been softened and dissolved, more sharp objects are used to start trimming off all the dead and excess skin. We wound up with a heap of the crap, thus confirming that yes, this was my first manicure. Seriously, we could grow, like, eight clones from the stuff the manicurist trimmed off my fingers. Note that we still have no polishing going on. Nail polish is like, the smallest part of the manicure.

Everything is now smoothed and shaped, and it's time for hand-massage and exfoliation. Dude, I now understand why people get manicures, because I learned some awesome new massage techniques just by watching. So much of my stress, gone like the wind. Also, this is where your horribly abused cuticles get doused in cuticle oil, which is sort of like magical regenerative slime. Magic slime feels goooooooooooooooood.

At last, nail polish. I was allowed to select my own color, thus proving that the customer is always right, however tasteless they may choose to be. My nails are now a shade of orange called 'Don't Be Koi With Me.' As this is the Toby trip, this seems entirely appropriate. I'll save the Embalming Fluid for the Newsflesh trip. I have no clue what I'll do about Lycanthropy; anybody got a polish color called Oops I Ate The Cat?

And that is the story of the manicure. A tale of sharp objects, acidic fluids, noxious chemicals, and exotic massage.

Manicures are awesome.