The Stars and the Cookie Jar

I wonder if they still have the Maypole at Brandeis. 

I need to find a red flower, to wear in my braid. Yes, my hair is long enough to braid again! Hee! (It grows like dandelions until it reaches its preferred stasis length, I think, which thankfully for my sense of fashion is small-of-my-back.) Seriously, I cried like murder when it had to be cut off, I'm so glad to have it back. (I see the comma splice. You wanna take this outside?)

I'm working on an exceptionally weird story. Post-apocalyptic Imperial Russia, and it still accidentally got queers in it.

Exceptionally weird!

Sovay wanted a Cain and Abel riff, so it's got that, too. Which is sad because Nicolas, the protagonist, is kind of a likeable reckless bloke before you get to finding out that he murdered his brother in a jealous rage.

I'm listening to the Sanford University EME on a cassette tape Hogan made for me; it's a pavane right now, actually, which makes me wonder did they have pavanes when music was Early?

Well, happy May Day!