I'm sitting up in bed in my sleep shorts, feeling the unseasonably warm arm flowing in through the open window. A hundred little spiky green things are coming up in my garden. I love this time of year.
I've been doing some good research for my book. Already finished Love and Hate in Jamestown by David Price, which was a delight, if a bit dramatic at times. I got a few chapters into (the) Dr. Kelso's Jamestown: the Buried Truth which might as well be titled It's Jamestown, Motherfuckers: I Found It, Suck my Cock. I generally like my history in forms of colorful lists and chewy little interpersonal anecdotes, and so his stripped-down archeological narrative featuring himself as the protagonist is not terribly interesting nor is it as illuminating as I expected. I drank my mint julep really fast when I was reading it, though, so perhaps on a second run it'll be more useful--or at least my eyes will see paragraphs through to their conclusion.
Big weekend ahead in which I have nothing to wear to the wedding at which I'm reading. All of my clothes have suddenly gotten too big, too stupid-looking, and are all the wrong season. I tried on my backup dress and was suddenly and awfully reminded of the words uttered by Jr3 when I bought it: matronly. I'm trying to decide whether or not I should try a last-minute ditch shopping trip tomorrow or sit around waiting for shoe-maker elves or fairy godmothers to accommodate me.
A bit jumpy tonight, if I'm being honest. Claws out.
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