And a today report.

Felt like hell when I got up. erispope got me moving with the promise of the possibility of ice cream when we got downtown. We caught the train and tried to hike to the Constitution. Got . . . well, not lost; I knew entirely where we were, but turned around, wound up at the Common. Got unturned around, grabbed the T back up to North Station, walked to see Old Ironsides.

At this point, my legs were going out on me, and they weren't doing boat tours anymore (it was past four). I sat down to munch on my bagel, and my pocket started vibrating. (Extricating a phone from a pocket is tricky when one's sitting down and doesn't really have the ability to stand up again just yet.) It was cheshyre, and we set up an ice cream date. Afterwards I called Kevin, and arranged for him to meet us in Charlestown, because I was in too much pain.

erispope wandered around the shop while I munched; I came in when she was about to wander through the museums. I told her I'd be around there while she museumed, and poked through the shop. Picked up another cookbook (to go with the onions cookbook I got the other day), this one called Old-Time New England Cookbook. It has seasonal recipes, so I'm assembling seasonal food data for gwynyth for use on NE2.

Kevin picked us up while we were in the middle of a lengthy discussion of Hornblower parallelisms and the construction of the Honor Harrington series, derived vaguely from my asking her if the series she'd been talking about before was the one with one of the titles as The Nutmeg of Consolation. We went and met cheshyre for ice cream (only getting slightly lost on the way, heh), and then went out to Indian.

I can walk some now, but I still limp intermittently. Damn hip.

And following a link from tiassa: ( bonus memeage. )

In a word: blah.

I have no idea how much my sense of excessive cold has to do with the weather, and how much has to do with my health. For that matter, I have no idea how much my health has to do with my current hormone cycle, how much to do with my depleted internal resources, and how much to do with a hypothetical actual illness.

I persist in being unable to draw, which aggravates me immensely. (I was trying to draw conceptualisations or representations of my aspects, which crashed and burned. I may have another go at the mecha notion if I get the conceptual issues untangled; maybe I can do the black-and-white thing I do for drawing sometimes, at which I am not awful. If I can get the conceptual stuff untangled.)

I conquered a little misbehaving code earlier for sstaten, which was nice, but I seem to have sunk into this miasma of dissatisfaction and mild headache since then, which is No Fun Whatsoever. The best I can manage at the moment is a mild humorous note that the book sitting on the shelves next to me seems, at random glances, to have the title Wraith: The Oblivious.

Okay, now the brain is wandering off in a pondering of white vine illumination again, which seems much more productive than sitting and sulking. Bunny puppy. Gonna try this drawing thing again now. . . .