January 9th, 2018


grog·gy /ˈɡräɡē/ (adjective): dazed, weak, or unsteady, especially from illness, intoxication, sleep

There was a little more snow last night, just a dusting atop the mountains that fell back on the fourth. But, still, it's much warmer. Currently, it's sunny and the temperature is 36˚F, the windchill at 29˚F, and our high should be 41˚F. By my standards, this is miserable weather, but after the last two weeks I'll take it and be glad.

Yesterday was spent compiling the ms. for The Dinosaur Tourist and then printing it all out. At the moment, it comes to 363 double-spaced ms. pages. Now, I have to read the whole thing over and make line edits, before sending it to Bill Schafer.

Today, I very much need to go back to work on The Tindalos Asset, but I hardly slept. Last night, Jonathan Strahan showed me to cover for the Tor.com edition of Black Helicopters, and I love it.

On this day eleven years ago I stole an LJ icon (below) from setsuled, and it has served me ever since. I had no idea it had been that long, but this morning, looking back over old entries, I saw that it has.

Last night, we watched David Bowie: The Last Five Years, the new HBO documentary by Francis Whately. I very nearly cried at the end.

From Facebook yesterday: This bullshit guilt trip that white American liberals seem to be choking on, how we have to believe we are fundamentally the source of all evil, that we are all hypocrites, that we are all that which we hate, in order that we may save the world from ourselves – Fuck that.

This morning, I finished Ray Bradbury's Green Shadows, White Whale (1992).

Aunt Beast

1:07 a.m. (this morning)