The Stars and the Cookie Jar

So I keep writing this freakish piece of alternate Russian history - who's going to want to read that?

And I have a ton of material to just flat-out memorise by Tuesday, since memorisation is the only way I'll keep it straight.

As for Tuesday's other details, I have proper, painful, boned underpinnings; proper, painful, slippery heeled shoes, and stockings, and lipstick, and a clear band-aid for my tattoo, which shows because the sleeves of my best blouse are mandarin-cut. Talk about making a silk purse from a sow's ear.

Mother wanted me to cut my hair, but.

Oh, and copperbadge has finished Stealing Harry. Go, read that. It's marvelous. He also writes original fiction -- Felinecor's Land -- and it's very weird alt-history.

Kind of like what I'm writing, but with Romans instead of Russians.

I have no idea where I got the Russians. She asked for Cain and Abel... I think it was from Cain slew Abel, and east of Eden he was cast, so I thought, east, east, what's east?

(One of you just replied, in a Hirsh-voice, 'Ponar'...)

In closing, I am not perving on my boss.