Bags, packed, ready to go. I'm traveling with the big orange suitcase and the little pink camo bag; the big orange suitcase contains my Little Red Riding Hood bag, so that I can decant my vitals once I actually get to New York and need to start looking presentable. I'm both packed lightly -- I can pick up my suitcase! -- and packed thoroughly enough that I should be able to survive until Sunday. I'm starting to think that I should win an award for traveling. I'm also starting to think that I should set up a 'go bag' with an assortment of travel-size cosmetics and such, just to simplify the packing process. This proves that I've been traveling a lot lately.

Directions to all the places I'm going, researched, printed out, in the planner. I have an...unfortunate...tendency to just assume that I'll be able to find my way places, and to forget silly little things like 'walking maps' or 'exact street addresses.' This has resulted in my becoming lost in some really fascinating locales, and would be fine if I didn't actually feel the need to get where I was intending to be. My time on the road is limited, and my appointments really don't allow for my finding a way to walk from Manhattan to Maine. Even though I'd really, really like it. (I may be one of the only people in the planet who finds the idea of walking from Maine to Denver to be one of the more pleasant side effects of the super-flu.)

Wool trousers, hemmed, picked up from the dry cleaner. This 'having clothing that needs to be tailored if it's going to fit correctly' thing is very new and strange to me, and I'll be doing my best to avoid it as much as possible. That said, having pants that fit is awesome, and having wool pants that fit when I'm about to go to a state that's still having winter is doubly awesome.

Manicure, accomplished. I have Don't Be Koi With Me nails. This delights me.

I have my laptop and all the notes and edits I've been wanting to process, and I'm flying Virgin America, which means in-seat power is my sweet, sweet companion from take-off to touch-down. I'll be in New York from tonight through Sunday; I may or may not be online at all during that time, but the safe assumption is 'not.' I definitely won't have much time to be answering comments or playing around with my email. Please be patient if you need me for anything, and I'll get back to you just as quickly as I can.

Road trip! Don't burn down the Internet while I'm gone.

(Please note that the things in my subject header will not necessarily be presented in the order in which they were, um, presented. Don't mind me, I'm very blonde today.)

Travel plans, take one: As many people have been able to put together from my vague rumblings, I'm heading for New York a week from, um, yesterday. Yeep. This is almost purely a business trip, as I'm going out to see my publisher, have lunch with my agent, and generally behave like a grown-up member of human society. (Kate even managed to get me into wool pants. Everybody say 'thank you, Kate.') I'm taking a red-eye flight from San Francisco on Tuesday night, and I'm going to be gone until the Ides of March. Internet access will almost certainly be limited during this time, because dude, I'll be in New York. Also, this is going to be Yet Another Trip to the East Coast during which I don't get to go to Maine. Given the estimated temperature in Maine at this time of year, that's probably for the best.

Travel plans, take two: I'm taking a much shorter trip at the beginning of April, flying up to Seattle to see my dearest darlingest Vixy and Tony, catch the pure hammered awesome that is Sooj in concert, and, oh, right, pick up my brand new kitten from Pinecoon Maine Coon Cattery. Pinecoon is run by Betsy Tinney, who's also serving as one of my subject matter experts for Discount Armageddon. It's weird to think that I'm about to have a cat that isn't a Classic Siamese, but I wasn't able to find any local catteries with kittens -- and I'll be honest, I fell in love with Betsy's cats the minute I walked in. I'm not happy about leaving Lilly alone while I go to New York, but at least I know her only cat status isn't going to last for long. Plus, my kitten? Is awesome.

Number geekery: According to today's count, Rosemary and Rue comes out in 180 days. This is a good number, but I liked yesterday's number better, because 181 is a strobogrammatic prime. A strobogrammatic prime is a prime number that, given a base and given a set of glyphs, appears the same whether viewed normally or upside down. It's one of the only primes that can't be defined with a simple algebraic equation. Also, depending on the way a given language writes its numbers, certain primes change from strobogrammatic to not strobogrammatic. And this is so cool. There just aren't words for the awesome. (I am a total number geek.)

And now, behind the cut, the cool.

( We cut because this graphic is not small, and breaking your browser is rude.Collapse )

Am home from day two of Wondercon, subtitled 'Seanan wanders around a lot, misses her panels, delivers some CDs, goes to the movies with Jeanne, and acquires a bunch of free stuff.' It's a long subtitle, but it's still fairly concise for everything that it needs to cover.

One nice thing about the convention being a straightforward train ride from my home: when I finish this entry and find the strength to move, I'm going to bed. In my bed. Not a hotel bed. Mine. Where I will sleep with my plush toys, and my pointy blue cat. Not those hotel plush toys and hotel pointy blue cats.

I appreciate this convenience.

In other news, yes, I'll be back at the con tomorrow; yes, I still have art cards, although the number is dropping; yes, I would be happy to answer any questions that you might have about Rosemary and Rue, including my new favorite, 'what's rue?' (How people surrounded by mad scientists can avoid knowing even one meaning of the word 'rue' is something I hope to never know...)

I'm attending a bunch of panels tomorrow, and my head hurts. So, y'know. Bed now.

1. Home from Friday at Wondercon.

2. Friday at Wondercon was every bit as awesome as I'd hoped! I wandered the floor, saw old friends, made new friends, bought cool shit -- I mean, seriously, comic book conventions are where I go to discover cool shit that I didn't know I was incapable of living without -- attended a panel on the future of Marvel's Ultimate Universe (it's not pretty, but it should be awesome), and managed to land on the commission list of an artist I admire. Major wins all around.

3. Alas, some other artists and authors I was really hoping to see didn't make this year's convention, for reasons ranging from 'the economy sucks' to 'twisted his ankle and didn't want to make with the massive lugging of crap through a crowded convention center.' So that's a little bit disappointing. Fortunately, most of them are scheduled to attend San Diego, so I'll get to see them there.

4. As an addendum to the last, I finally got the professional registration information for San Diego, and it's going to be my very first mass-media convention as an actual attending pro. Signing things. Things like, I don't know, maybe things related to Rosemary and Rue. You could actually get your hands on actual text, maybe. If you came looking for it...

5. I do still have art cards, and they will still be distributed first come, first serve throughout the remainder of the con, or until I run out, whichever comes first. Also, since I've been asked, I'll probably wind up selling whatever's left over, thus fueling my eternal need for more art supplies (and more cool crap I only seem to find at comic book conventions).

That's all for now. Now we must rinse.

1. If you wander on over to my website -- which is getting shinier and more functional every day as the back-end code comes online, all hail porpentine, who has slaved over a hot keyboard for our delight -- you may find a few truly awesome things waiting for you. Specifically, we now have icons and wallpapers, designed by the splendid taraoshea. All icons and wallpapers are free for use! Print them out, stick them to things, do whatever makes you happy. Well, except for posting them to your Deviant Art account and claiming that you made them. That would make the Tara sad, and she knows where I keep the chainsaws.

2. As you explore the site, you may see that there is now a landing page for the 'Velveteen vs.' stories. Yes, the link currently takes you to the big COMING SOON graphic, but its very existence means that, before too terribly much longer, there will be an online archive of the adventures of Velma 'Velveteen' Martinez as she struggles to survive the foul mechanations of the Marketing Department without giving in to the urge to just kill somebody already. Because the best way to show you care is with random semi-comic superhero stories, you know. My comic book store tells me so.

3. Speaking of my comic book store, the new best thing ever is walking into the place where I go for my weekly fix (I am such an X-junkie) and being greeted by Joe (the owner) with a cheery "Do you have CDs for me?" That moment, right there, was enough to validate my entire musical career.

4. Oh, and as an FYI for those who share my comic book habit -- Monday was a holiday, but it wasn't a shipping holiday. So today is still new comic book day, day of comic book-y goodness. Although according to the release lists, very little has come in that holds any actual interest for me. That's probably for the best, what with Wondercon right around the corner. Ah, sweet Wondercon. I wonder how I've lived so long without you.

5. I spent several hours last night at Borderlands Books, hanging out with Ripley, the freaky demon suede alien kitty-face (aka, 'the elder of the store's two resident hairless cats'). The more time I spend with her, the more I start to think that maybe life with a Sphinx wouldn't be so bad. Sure, they're naked and weird-looking, but they're also smart, friendly, and incredibly soothing to hang out with. This is probably a sign that I need some sort of 'cats are not like Pokemon, you do not need to collect them all' intervention.

6. While I was at Borderlands, I chanced to notice their list of top sellers for January, and jimhines grabbed the #10 slot with The Stepsister Scheme! Way to go Jim! The weird naked cats were very impressed.

7. For those of you who missed the (admittedly rather quietly delivered) memo, I will be leaving California for a short time in March, as I hop on a plane and fly out to New York for more fun with my friends at DAW. I love visiting my publisher, largely because it gives me an excuse to say 'my publisher' a lot, and that's still a sort of shiny-and-new thing for me. I am assured that by the time An Artificial Night (the third Toby book) hits the shelves, I won't find it all quite so exciting, but I really hope not. We all need things that make us irrationally happy. Anyway, my schedule is pretty packed while I'm there, so I'm not going to be looking to host a meet-and-greet or anything, but it's definitely going to represent a break in my standard routine.

8. Zombies are still love.

9. I have now managed to go three months without starting a new novel. For some people, this may seem like an unremarkable 'I just went three months without bursting into flame' or 'I just went three months without unleashing a global pandemic'-type statement, but for me, it's the result of Herculean efforts in the arenas of focus and restraint. I love starting books. The freedom and the scope of it all is just a wonderful thing. But I can be strong. I can be controlled. I can keep myself from getting beaten by my editing pool.

10. This coming Sunday is the official release date for Ravens In the Library, a benefit anthology assembled to help with SJ Tucker's unexpected medical bills. It's got an awesome list of authors, and, on a more personal note, it's got my first official this-is-in-print anthology appearance: my short story, 'Lost,' will be the final piece in the book. I'm very excited.

That's my wending for Wednesday. What's yours?

Well, it's official; the spring is getting fully underway here in Northern California, aka 'one of those irritating places where the seasons are more of a formality than anything else.' How can I tell? For one thing, it's been raining off and on for the past four days. We need the rain. When we don't get the rain, we have a tendency to burst into flames, which is no fun for anybody. (It doesn't help that we've managed to transplant the noble eucalyptus from Australia and seed it all through the damn state. The actual meaning of the word 'eucalyptus' is 'tree that hates you and creates a fire hazard in order to make you die.' In Australia, even the flora yearns to hurt you.) That doesn't mean I enjoy taking my daily walks through vast fields of puddles.

Other signs of spring are springing up. The buses are crowded with people whose cars are in the shop -- a standard occurrence after the first serious rains of the year. Tourists are beginning to appear in increasingly-large flocks, looking dazed and confused when they're not greeted by a sunshiny city filled with happy people conducting musical numbers on the cable cars (yes, the movies can lie to you). Daffodils are sprouting in yards where they weren't even planted in the first place. And I just found the first bag of bunny corn at Safeway.

Bunny corn, for those of you who fail to share my obsession with honey-based confectionry, bunny corn is the springtime version of candy corn. It's made using the same candy base, and the same candy molds, but comes in a variety of pastel colors, rather than the more traditional orange-yellow-white. (They do something similar at Christmas, only then they call it 'reindeer corn.') Since I only really like fresh candy corn, this springtime sugar infusion is a vital part of my annual cycle. Groundhog sees his shadow, water starts pouring from the sky, I eat bunny corn, and all is right with the world.

I'm told that in other parts of the world, spring is a glorious bursting-forth of life and color and glory. Here in Northern California, spring is that season where you're up to your knees in mud, and bullfrogs from the overflowing stream out back are taking up housing in your front yard. (I actually really, really like that part. All hail the mighty bullfrog, almost big enough to eat a kitten.) It's a season of grays, browns, and blues, like a bruise that takes several months to heal over.

It's also a season of exciting things, from Wondercon (coming soon!) to Anton's new book (coming sooner!) and Ravens in the Library (coming soonest!). We may be bruised and battered, and we may look like drowned rats, but by all that is holy, we're gaining momentum!

Bunny corn?

So jimhines has proven himself to be a class act. How? By sending a copy of The Stepsister Scheme to my mother, that's how. An autographed copy, no less. Since I'm not always sure my mother believes that authors actually exist -- the whole publishing process is arcane to her, which is understandable, since it's arcane to me, too -- this was made of awesome and pie. AWESOME AND PIE.

(Mom: "Is this for me?"
Me: "It has your name in it."
Mom: "Is he mad at me?"
Me: "...logic fail, Mom.")

After giving her the book, we went to Target to pick up my prescriptions for the month. (Yes, I am a grown woman. No, I do not drive. Yes, this sometimes means I ask my mother to run errands with me. No, I don't think this is a problem. I pay for gas, and it gives us an excuse to hang out without needing to find an actual activity that we have in common. Beyond playing with/tormenting the cats, flea markets, and going to Target, we mostly avoid that sort of thing.) As we waited, she asked me where I'd come up with some of the words on my new album.

"Like what?" I asked, all innocence.

"Epidemiolo-whatzit," she said.

Cue my mother getting a fifteen minute class on epidemiology while standing in the pharmacy aisle at the Target. Many people turned faintly green. Somehow, this turned into a vigorous explanation of recessive genes, why white cats are deaf, and why male pattern baldness passes through the female line. More people turned faintly green.

My mother's final verdict:

"I have no idea how I made you."

Neither does anybody else, Mom. Neither does anybody else.

Hey, all you Twitter-enabled peoples out there. Ever wanted to really know what was going through my mind? (Hint: it does not involve the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.) Well, you can now stalk me all over Twitter, as...

seananmcguire

I know, I know, it's not that creative. But I'm lonely all shouting into the Internet void by myself! Come keep me company?

Last week, before I left for Conflikt, I stopped in at Flying Colors to pick up my comics for the week. Mmmmm, delicious comic-y goodness. I had a copy of Red Roses and Dead Things in my purse, so I pulled it out to show around, with the accompanying squeals of "My new album came!"

Andy -- one of the counter monkeys -- asked, "Is this for us?"

Being a sensible girl who loves her comic book store, I promptly replied with "Sure!" I left the album, picked up my comics, and went on my merry way home, hence to head for the airport, fly to Seattle, and basically forget the entire thing.

Wednesday, I went to the comic book store again, since, well, Wednesday is new comic day, and I'm basically a fixture. Joe (the owner) told me how much he'd enjoyed my CD, and how pleasantly surprised* he was to discover that it was awesome. I thanked him, and went back to seeking comics...only to have Brian stop me to do the same thing, and Andy, and Jasmine, and basically, the entire staff of Flying Colors. (Andy described it as 'totally cornball and campy, but in the good way.' High praise for a girl who grew up worshipping at the shrines of Marilyn Munster and Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.)

And then Joe asked if I might want him to carry a few for me on consignment.

My comic book store -- the comic book store I've been going to almost my entire life, the comic book store I wish I could put in my pocket and just take with me to Seattle -- is going to carry my CD. In my comic book store. My CD. Later, possibly, my books (Joe's considering it).

I am a real girl.

(*Let's face it -- nothing's more awkward than having someone you like and respect hand you something they've made, and then finding out that the whatever it was sucks rocks. What are you supposed to say to them? 'Gosh, your CD sure was shiny?' 'Gee, there were a lot of words in that book?' It's an awesome surprise when awesome people make awesome things. I'm using the word 'awesome' a lot today. Maybe I should stop watching so many back-to-back episodes of Chuck.)

Here's a final reminder, my Pacific Northwest-ian darlings, that this weekend is Conflikt II, the second ever Washington/Pacific Northwest filk convention! It starts today at the Holiday Inn Seattle-Renton, located in scenic Renton, Washington, and I've been imported solely to serve as their Guest of Honor. I even brought an earthquake, for that true California touch. (I then proceeded to sleep through it. Thus proving that I have lived in California for too long.)

This weekend promises chills, thrills, spills, shrills (when the sporanos hit a note from the wrong angle), shills (when the Interfilk auction really gets rolling), trills (from all and sundry), and hopefully a minimum of ills, as I have not scheduled the global pandemic to coincide with the convention. Also, in a rare real-life sighting, my mother is going to be showing up for the con. Bring cameras, and move slowly, she's shy.

If you're wondering what all the fuss is about, or can't afford the entire weekend, I recommend swinging down for the Saturday night extravaganza. My concert is at nine o'clock, and evening memberships are available. Saturday night will also include appearances by Frank Hayes and Marian Call, thus making the entire experience MADE OF PURE WIN. So even if you can't come and share our entire madcap adventure, you should at least swing by for a few hours.

Copies of all three of my albums are available at the con, as are many more truly awesome and spectacular recordings. (I can make recommendations. Usually while bouncing and squeaking. It's fun, and, I am told, slightly unnerving.)

Hope to see you there!

My plane flight was uneventful, in that exciting 'I got on the plane, sat down, took my pills, closed my eyes, and we were on the ground in Seattle, with the nice flight attendant shaking my shoulder and asking whether I was dead. As I was not dead, I deplaned and met Vixy at the baggage claim. (Can I just say, any entry that includes 'and met Vixy at the baggage claim' is basically made of wonderful and win? Because it is.)

Back at the Brainpan*, we relaxed for a bit before Sooj and K came back, accompanied by Tony and Torrey. Everybody else went down into the basement to chatter, while I passed out cold on the living room couch. I'm a big fan of passing out cold. Especially when I know I'm going to wake up before eight the next morning (which I did). I had a parade of lovely people all morning long, as first Vixy, then Tony and Torrey, and finally Sooj and K rose from their slumbers and ambled off into the day.

I got some time to just hang out and talk with Sooj and K, which was wonderful. We all see each other at conventions, but there's so rather time to really just hang about and talk. They're good people. They're really, really good people. Which just makes me happier that Ravens in the Library is coming up to help with the medical bills.

I am now alone in the house, since Vixy, Tony, and Torrey are all at work, and Sooj and K have been carried off by Betsy. I'm going to finish the next chapter in Late Eclipses of the Sun, and do a bit of hammering on some other projects, before I allow myself to take advantage of Tony's fantastic cable television.

Hi, Seattle. Miss me?

(*Casa de Tony, which is also Vixy's current place of residence.)

I have packed my suitcase, checked my carry-on, spoken to my editor, and answered all my major pending email (as in, I still have what is most politely referred to as 'a fuck-ton' of email to answer, but none of it is actively on fire at this specific moment in time). I have verified the location of my photo ID, verified the airline and the airport I'm destined for -- I have a nasty tendency to remember when I fly, but not remember where I'm flying from -- and picked up my comics from the comic book store.

I have given Joe Fields, the owner of my comic book store, a copy of Red Roses and Dead Things, because it made him laugh, and I think anybody who's lucky enough to have a comic store guy like Joe should make him happy whenever it's possible. He's just awesome. I have packed food for the journey, since I have to leave my house at four to catch a seven-thirty plane to get to Seattle by nine-thirty, and that's a bit long to depend on airport food and Tootsie Pops.

I have packed emergency Tootsie Pops.

This is my first convention of 2009; the beginning of what currently promises to be a terrifyingly exciting, action-packed adventure of a year. As I was discussing with Vixy the other day, the Everything You Ever Wanted Fairy doesn't just show up with a few of the things you've casually wished for over the years, she shows up with everything, and you'd better be ready to cope. Perhaps I should have requested the attention of the Some Of The Things You've Ever Wanted Fairy. But I think that, in the end, I'm genuinely happy with the one I have.

All right, 2009; I'm going to leave the house real soon now. And in the interests of being a proper Halloweentown Disney princess coyote girl, I say...

...bring it on.

After an exciting evening chasing around San Francisco, visiting the freaky alien demon suede kittyfaces at Borderlands Books, and helping Kate get her glasses to fit right, I returned to the safety of the East Bay...where my mother promptly abducted me off to meet up with my baby sister, the trucker, in Brentwood. In the parking lot of an Office Max.

Did I mention that it was after nine o'clock by that point, and that I hadn't really eaten anything besides a McDonalds ice cream cone since lunch? Oh, and that my new CD finally arrived today -- at least according to the UPS website, as I hadn't yet had visual confirmation?

Yeah, it was a night.

But now I'm home, and I've confirmed the existence of the CDs. Yes! One thousand copies of Red Roses and Dead Things have joined the general clutter of my home. Actually, right now, they're increasing the specific clutter of my bedroom. Not precisely what I'd call optimal, but as it allows me to sign and number the pre-orders (to the degree that I can manage before a formal shipping party), I suppose I'll cope.

It's a damn pretty CD, too. It came out even better looking than I was hoping it would.

So that's my Friday night. Having signed and numbered the first ten CDs, I will now proceed to my bed, where I will probably dream of being crushed to death beneath a hail of disks. Because that's how this works. Good-night, world.

Pause a moment. Consider that. My mother is on Facebook. The land of faces and geeks now contains my crazy-train mom. Which is very much a 'what the fuck?' moment for me. (Also a sort of hysterically awesome one. She's Micki McGuire. Feel free to go over and say howdy. She's unlikely to tell you any embarrassing stories about me that I wouldn't happily tell you myself, but wow will she be perplexed if she starts getting friend requests from people who enjoy her book reviews.)

Yesterday in the Other Change of Hobbit, I was faced with an issue of Locus Magazine which listed -- under the DAW Books section of the 'Upcoming Releases' article -- Rosemary and Rue, by Seanan McGuire, coming to shelves in September 2009. So there I am, standing in the store where I've been buying books for most of my life, staring at my name in Locus. Fortunately, the store comes equipped with several cats on which to dry my tears. (I'm going to Borderlands tonight, where they also have cats, but the cats are genetically insufficient tear-dryers, on account of not having any fur.)

Today is January 23rd. Ravens in the Library comes out on February 22nd, and contains stories by several authors with whom I was greatly besotted in high school. That's less than a month from now, and the time between then and today is so full that it's going to be over before I have a chance to think.

The world is getting smaller by the hour. Good thing I'm not claustrophobic.

10. I appear to have started doing art cards. (Because, as Brooke said, I need something to do with all that spare time that I had just lying around.) For those of you who are unfamiliar with the art card 'concept,' they're little pieces of original artwork, done on 2.5"x3.5" cards. Mine are Micron and Prismacolor on bristol paper. I've done three so far, one to go with Grants Pass, one to go with Ravens in the Library, and one of Velveteen and Sparkle Bright during their first year with the JSP. I figure I'll use them as book giveaways. Right now, they're just being colorful and soothing; two things that I need more of in my life.

9. My reboot on Late Eclipses of the Sun appears to have done exactly what I was hoping it would do; the new first chapter is about ten times stronger, faster, better, and generally bionic in all possible regards. Now I'm working on the revisions to chapter two, just to really lock down the changes to the continuity, and once that's done, I can start processing my editor's notes on An Artificial Night. I'm spending so much time with Toby these days that we should really start charging her rent, I swear.

8. I write more poetry than is strictly healthy, sometimes in batches of two to five hundred poems at a time. (These batches are called 'Iron Poet' rounds, and are a variation on a standard writer's workshop exercise. They make me happy. I may be crazy.) I managed to write five poems yesterday, including a counted devan (although I skipped the internal rhymes on the zipper, because I didn't feel like giving myself a migraine) and a counted technical terza rima. Take that, everyone who said there was no use for structured poetry in the modern world!

7. My story in Ravens In the Library is getting an accompanying illustration. This is...this is amazing. Not just because the illustration itself is amazing -- I saw the sketch, and it is -- but because I didn't expect an illustration at all. It made me cry. More and more, I begin to believe that 2009 is the universe giving me one big incredible birthday present.

6. It's not entirely visible to the naked eye, but my website continues to creep closer and closer to being entirely done. We should be getting the first few essays up there soon, and Chris is working on the functionality that will allow me to update and edit the front page all on my lonesome. Meanwhile, Tara works secretly behind the scenes on Wonderful Surprises that only a golden graphics girl could possibly provide. Prepare to be amazed.

5. I get to spend the weekend working on Discount Armageddon! (Quoth Dan: "I don't know anybody who gets as excited about being told what to work on as you do.") I love deadlines, I love directions, and I love Verity. She's so happy to see you. And so happy to kick you in the head. Pleasantly, I just put together my Verity playlist last night, consisting almost entirely of dance music and things with a BPM of over 120. Because Verity just looooooves the beat, yo.

4. It's new comic book day! Always the most wonderful day of the week. At least in theory -- other days are sometimes surprisingly awesome.

3. All my television is coming back on the air. I'm a huge TV freak. It's what lets me decompress after a hard day of working and writing and worrying about working and writing; it's also what I do with the other half of my concentration when I'm inking. (Most of the shows I watch are more verbal than visual, and have clear cues when I actually need to be paying attention to the screen.) I really appreciate the fact that the things I watch are staggered enough to make sure I almost always have something new.

2. This time next week, I will be heading for the airport, heading for the sky, and heading for Seattle, baby.

...and the number one good thing about today...

1. Oasis just called me, and THE CDS ARE DONE!!!!! They're mailing them out from the Oasis warehouse today, and they should supposedly hit my doorstep on Friday. This gives me time to actually arrange for CDs to reach Seattle, prep the first batch of pre-orders to mail out (probably the first twenty or so, more if I can possibly swing it), and generally get my hysteria out of the way. It also gives me time to use the CD boxes to build myself a little fort and crawl inside it to hide from the universe.

What's new and awesome in the world of you?

January.
We're pretty solidly into January at this point, but the month's not over yet -- Conflikt II is still to come, and you haven't missed the opportunity to come and marvel at my very first Guest of Honor slot. My build-a-band for the occasion includes Vixy and Tony, Paul Kwinn, Alisa Garcia, and Luis Garcia (whom you may also know as several of the members of Puzzlebox), and the illustrious Amy McNally, fiddler to the stars. The set list is gorgeous, the company is glorious, and we are going to rock. The. House.

February.
February both begins and ends with a convention. Conflikt II starts the month, as the tail-end of the convention catches the beginning of February, and Wondercon ends it. Sometimes being a geek is truly a fantastic thing. Also, Wondercon will be my first 'industry convention' with a publication date and business cards in hand. You may even catch me wearing the Halloweentown Disney Princess super-suit! Truly an opportunity not to be missed.

February will also see the release of Ravens in the Library, which includes my short story, 'Lost,' written specifically for the anthology and never seen anywhere else. It's an all-star lineup for a very good cause. I'm very excited.

March.
March finds me running the music department for Consonance, the San Francisco Bay Area's very own filk convention. Our guests this year are absolutely first rate, and I don't just say that because most of them know where I live. It's going to be fantastic. You should totally come.

April.
It's a gap! In my schedule! During which I might actually do silly little things like sleeping, eating, and writing! Sometimes life is good. Sometimes life allows to actually plan for my nervous breakdowns.

May.
May will find me attending BayCon -- my second-ever BayCon as an actual working novelist. I intend to wander around giggling hysterically and looking starry-eyed. It's fun! Also, my friend Jennifer Brozek is the Toastmistress, so there's some exciting wackiness basically guaranteed.

June.
June is Duckon! The convention where you can see me and Jim Butcher duke it out over...well, whatever the programming division tells us to duke it out over. The convention where you can catch me, Vixy, and Tony all on stage at the same time! The convention where you can watch me perplex my handlers by demanding to walk to 7-11 every morning! This is going to be such a blast.

July.
Oh sweet, sweet San Diego ComiCon, how I've missed you. How I've longed for you. And how happy I am that I get to come back to you this year. I promise I'll never leave you again. There are rumors of some exciting Rosemary and Rue-related happenings at the convention -- happenings which may rock you all the way down to the tips of your toes. I recommend stopping by the Penguin Books booth to learn the whole story...where again, you can see me in Halloweentown Disney Princess mode. Always scary, always amusing.

July will also see the release of Grants Pass, a post-apocalyptic anthology from Morrigan Books. It includes my short story, 'Animal Husbandry,' written specifically for the project and never seen anywhere else. This was my first anthology sale. Words can't begin to express how thrilled I am.

August.
It's blonde vs. Canada as I make my way to the Montreal WorldCon. Who will win? Probably the fries with gravy.

September.
Nothing major. Just, I don't know, the OFFICIAL RELEASE of MY VERY FIRST FULL-LENGTH NOVEL, Rosemary and Rue. I've been living with October 'Toby' Daye as an invisible roommate for so long that I barely remember life without her, and now the whole world gets to be properly introduced. I'm excited beyond words. I've actually been crying, I'm so happy. I think you're gonna like her.

October.
The Ohio Valley Filk Festival! Unfortunately for my haunted corn maze aspirations, World Fantasy 2009 has been shifted to Halloween weekend, so I'm going to be flying back to California immediately after the convention to spend a weekend in San Jose, making friends and influencing people. Or at least staying upright.

November.
I like sleep. I understand people do it sometimes. Also, I understand that cats appreciate it when their owners sit still. So I'm going to try these things, and see if they keep me alive a little longer.

December.
Prepare for 2010. How did we get here already?

The year is filling up fast, and more things are bound to appear as the months draw closer -- look at how detailed the first few months are compared to the later ones. If you want me, book early, book often, and bribe.

Whee!

Yesterday, I...

...did a lot of fussing about, did a lot of reasonably important (if not entirely time-sensitive) email inbox cleanup, did some work on The Brightest Fell, and finally, attended a multi-hour rehearsal to get ready for my Guest of Honor concert at Conflikt II, as well as the house concert that I'm going to be performing in tomorrow night. If you're even remotely local, and have been considering attending either event, I highly recommend it. If you've never seen me live before, here's a nice quote from one of the conventions I've been featured at:

"Seanan wraps together deep, poetic lyrics and complex melodies, a soaring voice, and an exhilarating hold-nothing-back performance style."

See? Isn't that sweet? The house concert is actually a Vixy & Tony gig to which I have kindly been invited, and we're going to be doing some awesome stuff. We finally hit 'Tanglewood Tree' (a Dave Carter cover) at exactly the right angle last night. When I have tears in my eyes at the end of a rehearsal, that's when you know that you're doin' it right. And the convention, of course, is going to be one of my usual 'but what if we threw a concert and everybody came extravaganzas. I'm even packing the prom dress. Just in case.

Today, I...

...got out of bed, sat down, and wrote the first song of 2009 ('My Story Is Not Done'). To quote the lyrics:

I was born into a fairy tale,
Cinderella's dust-bin daughter.
Seemed like I was meant to fail,
Turning wine back into water,

Mama's slippers shattered when
She turned around to run,
But I never thought that mattered and
My story is not done.

My brain, ladies and gentlemen. Studies are even now underway. That done, I wrote three poems, updated my 'Velveteen vs.' continuity guide, and processed some edits to The Brightest Fell, which I'll get back to just as soon as I finish this entry. Once Fishy wakes up (allowing me access to my suitcase), I'll be getting dressed and going out for lunch with the wonderful folks from Team Seattle. And tonight, of course, we're rehearsing one more time for tomorrow's concert, in a setting which I have been promised will provide both ice cream and kittens. My life, so hard.

Tomorrow, I...

...will be appearing in the house concert I've been nattering on about so much above. Because love means never having to listen to me talk about one thing for all that long.

Hope everything is awesome in the worlds of you -- what's going on?

I wish to note that I have made a vast and important discovery, key to the survival of mankind:

Typing is much funner post-vodka.

Like, seriously. If you haven't had vodka, the act of spelling 'vodka' correctly is nowhere near as impressive. Also, I can spell 'impressive' after the vodka. And also I can spell 'antidisestablishmentarianism' after the vodka. Even if the spellchecker doesn't think I can spell it correctly. This is because the LJ spellchecker is stupid.

Vixy has just discovered my biohazard baggies. She is not properly concerned with their missing contents. This will be funny later.

More vodka now.

Hey, folks. So...

1. I am still in Seattle, land of weather that is entirely alien to me.

2. I'm not dead. I'm just experiencing some rather awesome technical difficulties when it comes to accessing Livejournal. Seriously, it's like my data is being delivered by carrier pigeon. I can post -- barely -- but answering comments is a task akin to stumping the Sphinx at Trivial Pursuit. So posting will remain infrequent until a) this problem is resolved, or b) I go home.

3. The house concert on the 3rd is still on, for all you local folks. The set list is smoking, and we're going to be doing a variety of songs that most of you won't have heard before. Including, terrifyingly enough, 'Dear Gina.' (I love this song like burning, it's creepy as hell, and it's always creepier live. That's just how this stuff works.) Be there or be, I don't know, elsewhere.

4. Voodoo Doughnut is quite possibly the place where good pastry gets to go when it dies. I mean, I ate a Captain Crunch doughnut. How often do you get to say things like that, in this world or in any other?

5. I've finished the latest 'Velveteen vs.' story, which will be going up here soon, and have mapped out the next six or so. My poor little superhero, she never gets any breaks. But she does occasionally get broken. Coming soon, 'Velveteen vs. the Eternal Halloween.'

6. I've also finished doing the base inks for the Conflikt II program book cover, and I'll be doing the zip-a-tone over the next few days. It's essentially made of awesome. Awesome, and tentacles. Which are essentially the same thing, so hey.

7. I've finished through chapter twenty of The Brightest Fell, also known as 'Toby Daye, book five.' My 'write far enough ahead that even if you get hit by a bus, the series can continue for years' plan is definitely working. Memo to self: avoid the bus.

8. Interpretive dance of the bacon on John Scalzi's cat = totally fun, and totally funny.

9. I do, however, miss my own cat, and expect her to start trying to destroy Oregon in her maddened rampage any day now. Which, well, would be amusing, if nothing else.

10. I don't really have a tenth thing. The list just looked incomplete and a little bit lonely when I tried to leave it off at nine, so I figured I'd come up with something. What I have come up with is, apparently, the fact that I got nothin'.

How's with all of you?

Since I fly to Seattle tomorrow -- because, of course, every good California girl who gets cold when someone says the words 'wind-chill factor' should absolutely fly from her nice, temperate state into an ongoing blizzard for the holidays -- I've been spending a great deal of my time and attention getting ready for this exciting holiday adventure. It's always a holiday adventure when you combine me, Vixy, Tony, access to art supplies, access to Rock Band, and a lot of free time. And that doesn't even go into our actual plans for the ten days that I'm going to be up in their neck of the woods. Highlights include...

* A trip to Powell's, the City of Books! Where I will once again demonstrate that I have absolutely no common sense when it comes to judging the number of books I actually need vs. the number of books my house can actually hold. I swear, I need a dedicated library. Which means I need to move out of earthquake country, since otherwise, there's a tragic Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction-related death in my future.

* A trip to Voodoo Doughnut, the pastry shop of doom, destruction, and a nice vanilla glaze! Seriously, I've never been to this place, but the descriptions (and photographs) on their website are scaaaaaary. They have Captain Crunch doughnuts. They have literal voodoo doll doughnuts. They do not currently have the NyQuil doughnuts, and that's probably a good thing, because I would totally feel compelled to eat one, and then I'd sleep until New Years.

* Musical rehearsal with the Garcias! Alisa and Luis Garcia are two of the sweetest, most incredibly awesome people I know. They're also crazy-good musicians with three fantastic kids and a really cute dog. Honestly, only their lack of broadband Internet keeps their lives from resembling a glimpse into Geek Heaven. Tony, Vixy, and I are going to pile into their guest house and get our musical badassitude on. (I have, once again, designed a concert set of almost entirely new material. My friends will kill me one of these days.)

* A meet-up with Team Seattle! I have no real clue what this means, beyond 'I finally get to meet Mark 'oh, what's this, I seem to have written a supernatural romance starring a zombie before you could, how did that happen, ha ha' Henry in the presumably living flesh,' but I'm anticipating a lot of wacky antics, and maybe a repeatable anecdote or two. (Given that I can find repeatable anecdotes in making toast, my odds are good.)

...and, of course, the house concert on January 3rd, wherein Vixy, Tony, and I will be bringing down the house and raising the roof at the same time. We're like magicians. Magicians of rock. There may also be a little roll in there. Rock, roll, all that good stuff. I may even be able to convince Tony that he wants to perform 'Sycamore Tree' in public.

So anyway, preparations have been ongoing for the past few weeks, gathering speed like a snowball running down a hill in a Warner Brothers cartoon. I've managed to mostly finish packing, assuming Lilly didn't slaughter my suitcase last night while I was at Kate's, and the total cleansing of my room* has helped to confirm the divide between 'what I need' vs. 'what I have.' Today's to-do list is all little things, like 'buy Luna bars,' 'pick up comics,' and 'print your tickets.' This is in contrast to last week's to-do lists, which still included items like 'where the hell is the bedroom floor?' and 'enslave the Martians.'

The inclusion of a house concert in the holiday plans meant the inclusion of dress-up clothes in my traveling wardrobe, since Vixy and I both tend to wear pretty dresses when we perform. The inclusion of dress-up clothes meant a sudden up-tick in my personal grooming. And that's why last night, prior to having tasty Indian food and watching The Usual Suspects with Kate, I went to the Harmony Beauty Salon -- our torture chamber of choice -- and had my legs waxed. Ever had your legs waxed? It's exciting new adventure in the realms of pain and exfoliation, since the wax also removes several layers of dead skin from whatever it touches. Also, the wax is green, and looks suspiciously like the mutagent from the old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon. Mutation could be just around the corner! Which makes me feel better about the whole process.

Pain. Because without it, how would we really know that it's the holiday season?

(*Seriously. It's totally clean. I took pictures as soon as I was finished, because otherwise, nobody would ever believe me that I had managed to get it to that state. A photo tour of my bedroom, coming soon to a theater near you.)

Maybe deciding that I've had enough Diet Dr Pepper and cutting myself off doesn't do as much good if I promptly start drinking coffee instead.

Maybe this is why my hands are shaking.

Maybe I can vibrate through time...

Lilly -- my crazy little bluepoint princess -- got to share an experience with human children the world over today: she went and got the crap scared out of her by Santa Claus. (I did have the owner of a small puffy dog ask me if I didn't think bringing my cat to the pet store was stressful and cruel. I did not respond by asking if she didn't think her dog's haircut was cruel. Be proud of me.)

Lilly was amazingly well-behaved, despite howling down the moon while we were in the car, and did not geld the big man. She even let herself be placed on a cushion in his lap, and stayed there calmly while the photographer made much of her. The wreath around her neck, yeah, also not a problem. This is a cat I could dress up like a pumpkin without really doing anything to piss her off.

The proof:



Lilly did get agitated after her picture was taken, when technical difficulties kept us standing around for another fifteen minutes or so. She stuck her claws into my shoulder several times as she scrambled for better footing, and my back looks like hamburger now. But that's okay, because she got to meet Santa.

I just hope she didn't ask for a pony.

Step one: Wake up. This is the least pleasing step. I was having a very pleasant dream about attending a convention in England with my agent and most of my crew of rotating musicians. Vixy and I got to raid a Tesco's. It was nice. Waking up was so not on the agenda.

Step two: Lilly realizes that I have woken up. On weekends, I tend to stay in bed long enough for Lilly to come over and spend some time on my chest, getting heavy-duty affection directed her way. This is because I foolishly believe that if I adore her enough before I start trying to do things, she might leave me alone to do them.

Step three: Check email. Hello, email. Yes, there certainly is a lot of you, and no, none of you really appears to matter. That's always a pleasant discovery on a Saturday morning, as the last thing I want is an emergency or for an unexpected deadline to pop up and wave to me.

Step four: Stare blankly at The Brightest Fell for about three minutes. After that, decide that I am not yet in the necessary head-space to struggle with navigating those particular waters, and close the file again. (Toby Daye, book five. Because finishing four of them in a year just wasn't enough.)

Step five: Copy-edit two chapters of the manuscript I'm currently copy-editing for a friend of mine. It's on today's to-do, even: 'edit chapters 10 and 11.' I am, at this point, sufficiently engrossed by the story that I wouldn't be surprised if that turned into 'and 12 and 13 and just keep going already,' but since I also have to finish the next Velveteen vs. today, it won't go on forever.

...and now, pants, and the ceremonial Saturday morning stroll to the 7-11, hence to obtain a soda whose volume is slightly more than the volume of my skull. Because that will make me feel better.

How's your Saturday?

January.
I'll be starting the month of January in the Pacific Northwest, where I'm staying with Vixy and Tony, both a) because I can, and b) to rehearse for Conflikt II at the end of the month. Remember, I'm this year's Guest of Honor, and we are going to rock. The. House.

After I return to California, I'll be going to see Evil Dead: the Musical in its second run at the Campbell Theater. I may be having my birthday party there. We'll see. Oh, and also? I'm putting out a new album this month.

February.
February both begins and ends with a convention. Conflikt starts the month, as the tail-end of the convention catches the beginning of February, and Wondercon ends it. Sometimes being a geek is truly a fantastic thing.

March.
March finds me running the music department for Consonance, the San Francisco Bay Area's very own filk convention. Our guests this year are absolutely first rate, and I don't just say that because most of them know where I live. It's going to be fantastic. You should totally come.

April.
It's a gap! In my schedule! During which I might actually do silly little things like sleeping, eating, and writing! Sometimes life is good.

May.
May will find me attending BayCon -- my second-ever BayCon as an actual working novelist. I intend to wander around giggling hysterically and looking starry-eyed. It's fun!

June.
June is Duckon! The convention where you can see me and Jim Butcher duke it out over...well, whatever the programming division tells us to duke it out over. The convention where you can catch me, Vixy, and Tony all on stage at the same time! The convention where you can watch me perplex my handlers by demanding to walk to 7-11 every morning! This is going to be such a blast.

July.
Oh sweet, sweet San Diego ComiCon, how I've missed you. How I've longed for you. And how happy I am that I finally get to come back to you this year. I promise I will never leave you again.

August.
It's blonde vs. Canada as I make my way to the Montreal WorldCon. Who will win? Probably the fries with gravy.

September.
Nothing yet. But it's a long way away, and the universe likes to toy with me. Watch this space for developments.

October.
The Ohio Valley Filk Festival! Potentially followed by another trip to Alabama, because dude, haunted corn maze. (And no, this isn't a surprise to Mary, she asked if I wanted to come back.)

November.
World Fantasy is in San Jose in 2009. Pretty sure I'm morally, if not legally, obligated to go. Just sayin'.

December.
Sleep.

The year is filling up fast, and more things are bound to appear as the months draw closer -- look at how detailed the first few months are compared to the later ones. If you want me, book early, book often, and bribe.

Whee!

* Busier than God.

* Remember, this is a paid LJ, and emailing me is way more likely to get a response than sending something to my LJ inbox.

* If you do send something to my LJ inbox, please make sure you haven't turned on the privacy options that prevent me from replying? Because seriously, I'm very blonde, I wind up sitting here, clicking and looking confused, for hours. And that's just no fun at all.

* Siamese cats + the shower = hysterical win.

* I broke my glasses while I was in Ohio; today, I went and had an eye exam to get new ones. Monday, I go to the doctor. It's like medical adventure-land over here, and normally, that's only fun when someone else gets to be the victim.

* Washing your flash drive is scary but entertaining afterwards.

...and that's the news. More later, when I'm breathing again.

Lilly caught her first mouse tonight. (This despite being almost four years old. My home-grown mighty huntress really isn't very good at her job.) I went into my room during a commercial break and found her half-under the dresser, chittering gleefully and shifting my portfolio all over the place. I got down on the floor to peer, and hey-presto, field mouse!

The poor thing was terrified, and quite tidily penned in by the collusion of 'closet door' and 'inexplicable old window screen' that lean up against the corner of my dresser. Lilly had herself a field day smacking at it and chittering before I was able to scoop it into a plastic container and dispatch my roommate to put it outdoors.

(I didn't spare the mouse because I have a soft heart. I understand that the whole 'circle of life' gig very much applies to mice stupid enough to enter cat-infested households. That said, Lilly is an indoor-only cat, and I'd really like to restrict her consumption of California's native wildlife to, I don't know, bugs and arachnids. Things that don't have warm blood and are thus less likely to give her interesting diseases. I know, I know, I'm a lousy excuse for a cat owner. I like my cats alive.)

Because Lilly is one of the most good-natured cats I've ever met, she's already completely over the fact that I took her mouse away, and is now devoting the bulk of her attention to loafing atop my open suitcase and giving me suspicious looks. Methinks the young miss has managed to figure out that I've packed a bit more heavily than is entirely essential for an overnight stay at Kate's.

Ah, cats. They remind us of the important things in life. And, when they're cats like Lilly, they remind me why I don't have children.

I live in the San Francisco Bay Area, land of a thousand climates and master of none. This Saturday, I hopped a train to Sacramento, a much warmer, flatter, still frequently blessedly rural area. (Lest someone from Sacramento think I'm insulting their home territory, believe me when I say that this is anything but disrespect. I love farms, I love pumpkin patches, I love goats, and I hate that my semi-rural home town has turned into a small city where empty lots are strange and livestock is stranger. From me, 'rural' is a compliment the size of Neptune.) Michelle met me at the Sacramento station with Kaia in the car, and we went straight to the pumpkin patch from there.

If you're in the Sacramento area, especially if you have kids (or like goats), I can't recommend the Fog Willow Farm pumpkin patch highly enough. They had the biggest hay mattress I've ever seen, goats, a free hay ride, goats, a hay pyramid, goats, enormous numbers of pumpkins, goats, St. Bernard puppies, goats, and they have a special free pumpkins club for kids under thirteen. Not better than Disneyland, but more fun than your average carnival.

Now, Michelle and company are in the process of moving (something I can't really help with, since I have multiple herniated disks in my lower back). We returned to the house to find David (Michelle's husband) and Matt busy unpacking the truck, and Michelle settled to help and juggle Kaia while I retreated to the back bedroom to work on the end-to-end revision of Late Eclipses of the Sun.

(Late Eclipses is shaping up to be entirely awesome, by the way. Seriously, while I may not appreciate this stage of the revisions -- it's a lot of climb for very little immediate cookie -- there's something fabulous about being able to stop, look down, and see a vast expanse of clean, crisp text stretching out behind me. This book is getting stronger all the time, and should provide a really stable foundation for The Brightest Fell, aka, 'book five.' No, I do not sleep.)

I've reached that stage of revision where I'm catching tiny little continuity errors several times a chapter -- the things that were either too small to see when we still had bigger issues, or were accidentally introduced by the more violent edits and revisions. This led to me standing up several times, going to the living room, announcing, "Everything is stupid," and returning to my labors. Anyone who thinks writing a book is easy should really observe this fun and exciting part of the process. Of course, that'll probably cause them to seek a different career.

Sunday was a relatively low-key day, capped by a vigorous flight towards Berkeley for a birthday party. (The birthday girl was the one driving the car; Matt and I were literally along for the ride.) I ate tasty Indian food for dinner -- goat again, although this time it was goat going into my face, rather than goat going into a pen with all the other goats -- before going home with Kate and sleeping in her basement. The end result of all this? I was just away from the Internet for the longest single period of time where I was not a) at a convention, b) at Disneyworld, or c) camping in living memory.

I am now over one hundred pages of the way through the revision of Late Eclipses.

Life is good.

My efforts to clear all the built-up comments on my LJ (going through my inbox, responding to the ones that want responding to, making sure things are generally tidy) has just been thwarted by my utter and complete exhaustion. It doesn't help that I'm facing a jam-packed weekend of thrilling goodness, including...

* The first pumpkin patch of the season! More, the first pumpkin patch of the season with a small child! Because nothing says 'it's October now, honey,' like forcing my friend Michelle to wrestle me and Kaia in a field of giant orange squash.

* Trying to pass the 75 page mark in the current end-to-end rewrite of Late Eclipses of the Sun! Because it is absolutely vital that the fourth Toby book be finished before the first one is available in stores, don't you know. Behold my crazy. It's definitely beholding you.

* Making progress on my Grant's Pass story! I swear, if I didn't think the editor would hunt me down with a chainsaw, I'd consider dropping out of this anthology, because my story is cursed. Seriously, seriously cursed. I work on it, I get Martian death plague. Finishing it may unleash the pandemic. If that happens, blame Jennifer.

* My monthly Firefly RPG session! This week, Cherry probably shoots something (or blows something up), Archer makes a snarky comment, Levi is vague and priestly, and Jerrika eats something humans were never meant to put in their faces. Bet you a dollar I'm right.

* A good friend's birthday party at some BBQ joint I've never heard of! Now, I am not a big eater of meat. Or vegetables. Or anything beyond candy corn, tomato sandwiches, and pumpkin products. This is going to be hysterical.

So yeah, I'm going to go and fall over now. I hope you all have jam-packed weekends filled with excitement and fun, and while I may not be around until Monday, I promise not to unleash my obedient dinosaur army without warning you.

I believe that a person's preferred working space and environment says a lot about them. Sometimes it says 'you're crazier than a mad scientist who's just received his electric bill,' but hey, that's still a statement. Because I have access to a camera currently (thank you, Rey) and I like to make sure people know what they're dealing with, I present...

Pictures of my desk.

( Cut because kindness says 'do not force others to behold your crazy without actually agreeing to the activity.' Also because there are several graphics here.Collapse )

Jon, upon entering the living room to find me reading How To Be A Villain: Evil Laughs, Secret Lairs, Master Plans and More!!!:

"Should I be worried that you're reading that?"

Me, being a sensible soul who does not believe in vague disclaimers:

"Yes."

Having now skulked around the house for an hour, I'm about to go and start getting ready for a day of facing Manhattan, followed by an evening of facing Queens. It's me and Diana versus New York for much of the day, during which we promise to do less damage than the monster from Cloverfield, and then me, Merav, Batya, Alex and Jon versus The Exotic Mushroom Collection tonight, after which we will hopefully not all die of surprise mushroom poisoning.

It is perhaps sad that my idea of 'doing touristy things in New York' includes such exciting activities as 'going to the neat cosmetic supply shop where they have the day-glo orange nail enamel' and 'going to Journal Square for goat curry.' Then again, it means I get to avoid the scary crowds of gawking people that seem to throng throughout the region, and I have serious trouble viewing that as a bad thing. (I love travel, I love traveling, I even love tourists, right up until they're gathered in a mob so vast that they would, were they granted wings, black out the sun. Although the idea of turning all the tourists in Times Square into flying monkeys is sort of awesome.)

I'll be back around later; please do not burn down the Internet while I'm away, as I'm still using it for a wide variety of things. Expect a post on not writing sometime later this week, and why it is occasionally good for you.

Whee!