Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
I cannot see, having been handed three separate drops to be dripped into my face four, four and eight times per day in the hopes that I not go blind permanently.
I am begging off tonight's post. Sorry.
I have too many proteins floating around the aqueous fluid of my eyes to spend huge amounts of time staring at a computer screen, sorry.
I am typing this by touch and hoping it is good enough to explain.
Next week, if this continues... I will pull out the speech to text and see if that works for me.
Hugs to all.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Joras was actually appalled when, a time or two, I sat right down, heedless of my dignity, cross-legged in the grass, to talk to a circle of children who wanted to hear about my little brother and how he got lost in the sewer pipes. Or how his pet domoctopus saved him from a big spider there.
Aside from the occasional smelly one, it wasn’t a problem really and I began carrying a largish round harness bell that I could pull out to distract possible screamers. It was as if I could hear Binshala at my elbow. It is only baby pee, Spark. It washes off.
Arko had elected a lot more solas and fessas to Assembly than okas. And, surprisingly few Aitzas, until I thought about it and realized that most Aitzas held it beneath them. I could talk to the solas about training and the fessas about how I had lived as a fessas while in hiding.
He looked impeccable in his dark red satins, with cutwork hems and cuffs dotted here and there with tiny gold sequins. I was still in my flying leathers and considerably more aromatic from flying all day.
He was taller than I. Obviously broader across the shoulders with a small paunch of presence. A man's fleshier build, to my gracile one. He was fashionably smooth faced and had hair all the way down to his mid-thigh, also perfectly combed. I felt very scruffy and wind-blown.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
That last fight. I'd hurled him out of the Fig onto the street and he’d screamed at me that he would rather die than become a shennen stupid winebar owner and I’d screamed back at him that he might as well go die then, because if he didn’t obey me he better not come home...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Update: Things are getting better so it looks like I will be able to write Friday's post... just not to put it up right after midnight tonight....
Wednesday, January 19, 2011