Field-testing new black boots.

Can't string words together today. Though maybe the shoggoth counts.

Boots make me tall. Left one rubs the bridge of my foot some; should settle down when they break in. Hard to park near Tosci's these days. Went to the Museum of Science with sstaten and autumnesquirrel. Discovered again that all the Greek I can read and understand on the Rosetta Stone (this one a decent replica, but the wrong gloss) before I can't deal anymore is 'king' and a whole bunch of prepositions. teinedreugan joined us for laser show and dinner. Then we tried to go to Tosci's but no dice.

Feeling slightly ill and wobbly. Not to mention cut off and other weird stuff. Can't write worth a damn. Take tomorrow to recuperate and maybe not become Tremendously Ill and maybe even get work done.

Had cocoa with cloves and cinnamon. Life is not all penumbral headaches and queasiness. Will take Dirt, Greed, and Sex upstairs and try to get the lamp by the bed working so I can read until my head falls off.

Insert Mr. Yuk Face Here.

Someone just expressed the preference that gay characters in stories need to be gay for "some story purpose". I managed to ask him if he also thought that straight characters needed to be straight for "some story purpose" to be acceptable to him rather than express my bogglement more ferociously.

What's wrong with people being people in stories? All sorts of things are true about people in stories that aren't true for "some story purpose", they're just true.

Sex. Is not. A special case.

Update: Getting a response of "I'm not playing that game" to an honest question that it took me some effort to produce in the absence of a diatribe does not ease my irritation; rather, it inspires contempt.