Which is better than I can say for my checkbook. Going to Trinoc*con whenever Andreas gets home. Yay! A whole weekend of being Luna. People who ask what I do and are referring to my day job will risk being bitten. If I'm feeling gracious, they'll just get a pointedly clueless look.

Have I ever mentioned that I really hate defining a person by their day job? It's so damn limiting, like a Huxley view of the world. She's a waitress or he's a sanitation worker or whatever because that job is the be-all, end-all of their skill set and interests. To which I say, right, but isn't there just the teensiest possiblility that there were more jobs available in those fields? Hmmmmm. Anyway, mini-rant ends.

So...wardrobe issues cleared (involving a see-through shirt and how to wear it without distressing people. All hail the cami.), red gunk ready to be rinsed out of my hair (of course it's my hair color; I paid for it fair and square), purse loaded with odds and ends (except the portable black hole), stuff printed. Should be good. Now to hassle strangers! To gather with a group of people who don't say things like, "I just don't like reading," or "Neil who? Gay-man? Never heard of him. Does he write romances?" or "Fantasy is like fairy tales or something, right?" or similarly annoying things.

And awaaaay we go...

Currently Reading: Ruby Slippers, Golden Tears

Recommend: On the Occasion of My Last Afternoon by Kay Gibbons

Stories out: 5