Today we're beginning the BIG-ASS XMAS EBAY BLOWOUT. Lots of good stuff® for the whoever who has everything – except that. Please have a look. Thank you. Currently, there's an ARC of Pink Delicious, so you could be the first on your block. Also, we're relisting The Ape's Wife and Others ARC (because the nimrod who won the auction back when never paid, the deadbeat).
Yesterday was, as planned, a day out. Yup, I should have been here banging away at these keys. But I went Outside, instead. Errands that needed running. It began with a visit to Paper Nautilus Books, with three boxes of books that were evicted from my office. The nice lady* there took most of them, more than two thirds, in return for $204 in credit. We will be visiting her at least twice more. I love that bookstore, the finest in Providence. And now it has a bunch of books that once belonged to me. And soon it will have more. Naturally, as soon as I've divested myself of thirty books, I used fifty dollars of the credit to get two more: John R. Casani's The Moons of Jupiter, plus Whybrow Hill's Fossil Vertebrates of Arabia. The latter is a pretty cool (and huge) volume, but the main reason I took it home as because it's been there since I first visited the shop (when it was still Myopic Books) back in 2008. It needed a home.
After the bookshop, we headed to Pawtucket, to iolabs. They're photographing Michael Zulli's paintings and sketches for the Centipede Press edition of The Drowning Girl: A Memoir. I met a very friendly dog there. The work on the images in going to cost $240.
We saw the new bear sculpture at Brown University. We went to Newbury Comics in Warwick, and I got the latest Arcade Fire album.
Back home, an evening of Guild Wars 2 and left over chili, and we started watching The Lord of the Rings through again, on Blu-Ray, and it's even more beautiful on the new Jetsons' Space-Age TV. Now photographs:
All photographs © Copyright 2013 by Caitlín R. Kiernan
Okay. I didn't sleep but four and half hours last night, and now I have to work.
At Least Half Awake,
* A word that, inexplicably, seems to drive the Outrage Brigade slacktavists all whackadoodle. But it's a fine word I adore, so fuck 'em (again).