The Stars and the Cookie Jar

Six pages on the Joan story, so far. :) Now I am collapsing, because I have to open tomorrow. That is in fewer hours than I care to calculate, and my pillow has a huge wodge of cat hair on it... oh, wait, that's the cat.

I feel like a writer again!

(flump)

"You've been writing queer lit consistently for five years, and I can prove it." -- rymenhild  in convo, or close to it, the quote was better but I am so tired and my brain is humming lines from mediaeval French...

I know, I know, two entries in six hours, bleh.

But something happened then that th-- Whups. Where was I? Something has happened of note.

I just spent a very enjoyable three hours with my sister.

We have officially fallen into the parallel universe. Please say the following word aloud; Chrestomanci.

Dang, that didn't work.

We sat in front of the cable television eating semi-frozen brussels sprouts (oh, the weird things that are apparently genetic) and MST-ing the Disney version of The Three Musketeers ("Come, d'Artagnan! We're saving the king!" "Right after we decide which one's the he!") and The Secret of NIMH ("We will leave for Thorn Valley tonight, and we will leave no tracks." "Except for this enormous tangle of block-and-tackle and crushed rats.") . It just proves you never know a person until you've refused three solid times to write their Brit Lit paper, and they give up and plunk down in front of the TV.

It was fun. I was surprised as heck. I do not think I have ever laughed with my sister before.

I'm still not sure if we love each other -- look, I'm serious, I spent ten of her sixteen years far away -- but at any rate we do have similar dark senses of humor.

I'm speaking at a thingy for RAINN in April. Gulp!