Cherie Priest's Blog: It's awards season, so here comes the shameless self-promotion, page 57
December 30, 2011
Frivolity and Rum
Today began with a sulk, for I discovered that due to the tolls of winter slothitude, I no longer fit into my favorite pants. But I will not throw them out or donate them. I will merely reinstate my (formerly) daily run/climb as soon as the weather permits.
And now a note on weather permitting my exercise routine.
Ahem.
It's like this: I'm a whiny puss from the Gulf Coast. If it's below 40 degrees, I won't subject myself to the out-of-doors unless it's an absolute necessity - and exercise is nothing of the sort. If it's raining beyond the typical Seattle drizzle, I won't do it. If it's windy as hell, you can just about forget it then, too.
But for the last couple of months, it's been raining, 40 degrees or less, and windy like whoa. So I have scarcely been outside, and I might have hypothetically developed an unhealthy habit of swilling hot butter rum every night - and did I mention that the sun starts going down around 4:00 p.m.? I don't know how many calories are in hot butter rum, but anything with "butter" right there in the title is pretty much a challenge to pants everywhere, or so I am forced to assume.
Oh well. No one's fault but my own.
And Seattle's.
Anyway - inspired (or shamed) by my failure to successfully pantsify myself, I hiked down to the salon today and got my hair did, despite the nasty-ass weather. (Before you ask, yes, I wore pants. Different pants.) My roots are now touched up, my ends are snipped, and all is well on the personal grooming front.
For bonus girliness, tomorrow I'm getting a manicure with my friend Nova, for no reason other than the fact that I am a civilized grown-up, dammit, but you could not prove it by looking at my hands. And also because I found some adorable smoky/pearly gray polish that will look a hell of a lot better if somebody other than me applies it.
I may not visit the outdoors much this time of year, but by golly, I can match it!
And now a note on weather permitting my exercise routine.
Ahem.
It's like this: I'm a whiny puss from the Gulf Coast. If it's below 40 degrees, I won't subject myself to the out-of-doors unless it's an absolute necessity - and exercise is nothing of the sort. If it's raining beyond the typical Seattle drizzle, I won't do it. If it's windy as hell, you can just about forget it then, too.
But for the last couple of months, it's been raining, 40 degrees or less, and windy like whoa. So I have scarcely been outside, and I might have hypothetically developed an unhealthy habit of swilling hot butter rum every night - and did I mention that the sun starts going down around 4:00 p.m.? I don't know how many calories are in hot butter rum, but anything with "butter" right there in the title is pretty much a challenge to pants everywhere, or so I am forced to assume.
Oh well. No one's fault but my own.
And Seattle's.
Anyway - inspired (or shamed) by my failure to successfully pantsify myself, I hiked down to the salon today and got my hair did, despite the nasty-ass weather. (Before you ask, yes, I wore pants. Different pants.) My roots are now touched up, my ends are snipped, and all is well on the personal grooming front.
For bonus girliness, tomorrow I'm getting a manicure with my friend Nova, for no reason other than the fact that I am a civilized grown-up, dammit, but you could not prove it by looking at my hands. And also because I found some adorable smoky/pearly gray polish that will look a hell of a lot better if somebody other than me applies it.
I may not visit the outdoors much this time of year, but by golly, I can match it!
December 28, 2011
Smells like nostalgia. And sexy babies.*
Today I went to the bank, nabbed some lunch, got my glasses adjusted, and then lost my trusty travel umbrella to a gust of wind and an unexpectedly sharp tree branch.
No matter. I was only a block away from Walgreens, where they happen to carry travel umbrellas. Problem: meet solution.
However, I was not smart enough to stick to the umbrellas. I kept remembering other stupid little things I needed (face wash, toothpaste, envelopes, etc.), and as I hunted and gathered, I wandered through the cosmetics/personal care aisles.
Right past a boxed gift set of Love's Baby Soft products.
And I did a double-take.
Not because I loved Love's back in the 80s (I thought it was okay), but because I loved Love's affiliate products - the Love's renditions of jasmine, lavender, and "rain." They smelled lovely, and far less "calling all beady-eyed pedophiles" than the original pink powder-scented stuff. And best of all, they were light.
When it comes to fragrances, light is important to me. You see, I have this mutant alien body chemistry that absolutely CLINGS to scent. Any scent. Good scents. Bad scents. Scents that most people don't really worry about - like laundry detergent, dish soap, hand lotion, and so forth ... anything with a molecule of odor works its way into my skin and stays there, whether I like it or not.
[As an aside, my mom says that when I was a baby, she'd make up excuses to keep little old ladies from holding me - lest I smell like mothballs, hard candy, and Aqua Net for a week. So this is not a new development.]
Anyway. When I was a teenager, I loved the Baby Soft scents (except the original so much, as noted) because I could spray them in the air, walk underneath, and smell faintly, pleasantly, like the appropriate cologne until bath-time - and no longer. And conveniently enough, I really love jasmine and lavender.
Alas, prior to this afternoon I had not seen the jasmine or lavender renditions of Love's in twenty years. I didn't think they still made it anymore, and I've long since moved on to other olfactory vices. But there it was - not the full set of alternates like I wore as a kid, but a box set that included one small bottle of my formerly prized jasmine cologne.
The set was marked $9.99 - and was on a pile of merchandise that was half-off, due to the post-holiday purge.
I suppose you can see where this is going.
Gleefully, I tossed the box into my shopping basket. Merrily I traipsed up to the checkout counter.
And therefore, I bought myself five items: A bottle of the original Love's Baby Soft cologne, pink and somewhat cloying; a tube of shimmery Love's Baby Soft lotion, likewise eye-wateringly "fresh"; a tube of Love's Rain Forest lotion, which smells oddly like Davidoff's Cool Water for men, but whatever; a bottle of Love's Soft Lemon perfume, which I find frankly perplexing; and the highly coveted bottle of Love's Soft Jasmine perfume.
You will note that the photo above shows only four items.
Yes. Well. Upon opening the box, I was greeted by a wafting cloud of Love's Baby Soft (original formula) - a cloud of such nose-prickling density that it now pervades my very soul.
And why did I not don gloves at this point in the story? Because I'm a dumbass, that's why.
As I popped the items out of their plastic mold packaging, one doo-dad at a time, I realized that the Love's Baby Soft cologne was half-empty, and the other half of its contents had either sloshed into the other mold compartments or gelled into a vivid pink goo at the bottom of its own housing.
Reader, is 1985 up in this-here Seattle apartment, and I will be exfoliating the undead daylights out of myself for the foreseeable future.
I can only thank God my husband isn't home, and pray that the worst of the fragrance fog has dissipated before he returns. And also, that he isn't deeply appalled by the prospect of his wife smelling like she's twelve.
* Ahem.
No matter. I was only a block away from Walgreens, where they happen to carry travel umbrellas. Problem: meet solution.
However, I was not smart enough to stick to the umbrellas. I kept remembering other stupid little things I needed (face wash, toothpaste, envelopes, etc.), and as I hunted and gathered, I wandered through the cosmetics/personal care aisles.
Right past a boxed gift set of Love's Baby Soft products.
And I did a double-take.
Not because I loved Love's back in the 80s (I thought it was okay), but because I loved Love's affiliate products - the Love's renditions of jasmine, lavender, and "rain." They smelled lovely, and far less "calling all beady-eyed pedophiles" than the original pink powder-scented stuff. And best of all, they were light.
When it comes to fragrances, light is important to me. You see, I have this mutant alien body chemistry that absolutely CLINGS to scent. Any scent. Good scents. Bad scents. Scents that most people don't really worry about - like laundry detergent, dish soap, hand lotion, and so forth ... anything with a molecule of odor works its way into my skin and stays there, whether I like it or not.
[As an aside, my mom says that when I was a baby, she'd make up excuses to keep little old ladies from holding me - lest I smell like mothballs, hard candy, and Aqua Net for a week. So this is not a new development.]
Anyway. When I was a teenager, I loved the Baby Soft scents (except the original so much, as noted) because I could spray them in the air, walk underneath, and smell faintly, pleasantly, like the appropriate cologne until bath-time - and no longer. And conveniently enough, I really love jasmine and lavender.
Alas, prior to this afternoon I had not seen the jasmine or lavender renditions of Love's in twenty years. I didn't think they still made it anymore, and I've long since moved on to other olfactory vices. But there it was - not the full set of alternates like I wore as a kid, but a box set that included one small bottle of my formerly prized jasmine cologne.
The set was marked $9.99 - and was on a pile of merchandise that was half-off, due to the post-holiday purge. I suppose you can see where this is going.
Gleefully, I tossed the box into my shopping basket. Merrily I traipsed up to the checkout counter.
And therefore, I bought myself five items: A bottle of the original Love's Baby Soft cologne, pink and somewhat cloying; a tube of shimmery Love's Baby Soft lotion, likewise eye-wateringly "fresh"; a tube of Love's Rain Forest lotion, which smells oddly like Davidoff's Cool Water for men, but whatever; a bottle of Love's Soft Lemon perfume, which I find frankly perplexing; and the highly coveted bottle of Love's Soft Jasmine perfume.
You will note that the photo above shows only four items.
Yes. Well. Upon opening the box, I was greeted by a wafting cloud of Love's Baby Soft (original formula) - a cloud of such nose-prickling density that it now pervades my very soul.
And why did I not don gloves at this point in the story? Because I'm a dumbass, that's why.
As I popped the items out of their plastic mold packaging, one doo-dad at a time, I realized that the Love's Baby Soft cologne was half-empty, and the other half of its contents had either sloshed into the other mold compartments or gelled into a vivid pink goo at the bottom of its own housing.
Reader, is 1985 up in this-here Seattle apartment, and I will be exfoliating the undead daylights out of myself for the foreseeable future.
I can only thank God my husband isn't home, and pray that the worst of the fragrance fog has dissipated before he returns. And also, that he isn't deeply appalled by the prospect of his wife smelling like she's twelve.
* Ahem.
December 27, 2011
Kringle Aftermath
So far the post-Christmas week has been lazy, for the most part. The husband has the week off, so he and I have done some shopping - hitting up those after-holiday sales - and general mucking about, taking a short break from life, the universe, and everything.
You have no idea how badly I've needed it.
Today's start was a little shaky, though. Sometime in the wee, dark hours of the morning, our smoke detectors went off full blast - sending the cat into a fit of hysterics that didn't really end for hours. Long after the damn alarms were yanked off the ceiling and silenced, the kitty remained a spherical puff of frantic black fur with pupils the size of nickels, yowling forlornly as she wandered the apartment.
No, we don't know what set the things off. There sure as shit wasn't any smoke, shower steam, bug spray, hair spray, cigarettes, or take-your-pick of the usual suspects. And this wasn't the chirp of a low battery, either - it was the full cycle of digital screaming, loud enough to hurt.
Suffice it to say, no one really got back to sleep, and this afternoon we are all sort of dragging. Except for the kitty, who says, "To hell with dragging, I'll just conk out wherever I damn well please, and at length." Now that everything seems back to normal, of course.
(I picked up a change of batteries just to be on the safe side, so we swapped them out and re-installed the alarms. Everything seems to be operating normally, but you can safely bet that the cat gave us a whole lot of stink-eye during the test-beeps.)
Anyway, considering that it's not even 3:00 p.m. and I'm already considering putting my pajamas back on ... we'll probably call it an early night.
You have no idea how badly I've needed it.
Today's start was a little shaky, though. Sometime in the wee, dark hours of the morning, our smoke detectors went off full blast - sending the cat into a fit of hysterics that didn't really end for hours. Long after the damn alarms were yanked off the ceiling and silenced, the kitty remained a spherical puff of frantic black fur with pupils the size of nickels, yowling forlornly as she wandered the apartment.
No, we don't know what set the things off. There sure as shit wasn't any smoke, shower steam, bug spray, hair spray, cigarettes, or take-your-pick of the usual suspects. And this wasn't the chirp of a low battery, either - it was the full cycle of digital screaming, loud enough to hurt.
Suffice it to say, no one really got back to sleep, and this afternoon we are all sort of dragging. Except for the kitty, who says, "To hell with dragging, I'll just conk out wherever I damn well please, and at length." Now that everything seems back to normal, of course.
(I picked up a change of batteries just to be on the safe side, so we swapped them out and re-installed the alarms. Everything seems to be operating normally, but you can safely bet that the cat gave us a whole lot of stink-eye during the test-beeps.)
Anyway, considering that it's not even 3:00 p.m. and I'm already considering putting my pajamas back on ... we'll probably call it an early night.
December 25, 2011
Merry happy cheerful festive everything!
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth - peace, goodwill toward men. Happy holidays, all. Whatever you celebrate (if anything), however you celebrate it (if at all).
December 23, 2011
The lengthening days
I know I've been vague about my day-job all year, but that can't change anytime soon; maybe this coming summer, I'll be able to talk about what I've been up to. Or then again, maybe not. Regardless, I just emailed off my final round of work for the year ... and for the contract's duration.
In short, the super-secret day-job has come to an end.
Come the new year, I might well renew here and there for clean-up on the project or further involvement - though this remains to be seen. My schedule is rather in flux right now. There's a lot going on, and I'll have to play 2012 by ear.
But next on deck: For the remainder of 2011 and most of January 2012, I'll be eyebrows deep in Inexplicables rewrites. And perhaps ... just perhaps ... I'll work in a break for some holiday cheer.
* * * * *
Or in lieu of holiday cheer - why not a short, immodest link roundup?
Perpetual Reboot - PR surrenders to the pressure and gives Ganymede 5/5 stars. Click to find out why!
League of Steam - Podcast interview wherein I join the LoS folks. They're a great bunch! And every time I run into them - here, there, and wherever in the smallish steampunk community - they're always very kind and very cool.
The Functional Nerds - Now the Functional Nerds guys, on the other hand .... Ha! I'm just kidding. They too are fine folks, with the possible exception of Sam Sykes - with whom I share podcast space in this particular interview. I think Sam wants to start a feud. I told him I already have a feud going with Tiffany Trent, but I might be able to shoehorn him in. I was subsequently threatened with cookies.
Locus Magazine - Locus likes Hellbent! Yay!
Stainless Steel Droppings - Review of Dreadnought, which the reviewer excerpts and considers in friendly, thoughtful detail.
In short, the super-secret day-job has come to an end.
Come the new year, I might well renew here and there for clean-up on the project or further involvement - though this remains to be seen. My schedule is rather in flux right now. There's a lot going on, and I'll have to play 2012 by ear.
But next on deck: For the remainder of 2011 and most of January 2012, I'll be eyebrows deep in Inexplicables rewrites. And perhaps ... just perhaps ... I'll work in a break for some holiday cheer.
* * * * *
Or in lieu of holiday cheer - why not a short, immodest link roundup?
Perpetual Reboot - PR surrenders to the pressure and gives Ganymede 5/5 stars. Click to find out why!
League of Steam - Podcast interview wherein I join the LoS folks. They're a great bunch! And every time I run into them - here, there, and wherever in the smallish steampunk community - they're always very kind and very cool.
The Functional Nerds - Now the Functional Nerds guys, on the other hand .... Ha! I'm just kidding. They too are fine folks, with the possible exception of Sam Sykes - with whom I share podcast space in this particular interview. I think Sam wants to start a feud. I told him I already have a feud going with Tiffany Trent, but I might be able to shoehorn him in. I was subsequently threatened with cookies.
Locus Magazine - Locus likes Hellbent! Yay!
Stainless Steel Droppings - Review of Dreadnought, which the reviewer excerpts and considers in friendly, thoughtful detail.
December 20, 2011
Recent shenanigans
Aw, man - I blink and it's been another long stretch of days without a proper post. Never fear! I haven't wandered off. But don't get your hopes up, either. This post won't be anything to write home about.Hey, at least it comes with a picture - because I got new glasses! They are metro and kicky, and just classic enough to not look hopelessly dated in another six months. I hope.
The only other excitement you missed was my mom's birthday (yesterday), and Ellen's cookie party (Sunday) - wherein many attractive Christmas cookies were decorated ... and far too much buttercream frosting was ingested.
Next up: More work, but only more day-job work through Friday, when my contract is up. Mind you, we might well renew in order to refine/finish up/polish the project, but it'll have to wait a week or two; which doesn't mean I'll have the time off, or anything. The last week of this month will be spent eyeballs-deep in Inexplicables revisions, so that I can fulfill my oft-made promises of Zombie Sasquatch before the end of 2012.
On that note, I need to get dressed and start my day. I have errands to run and emails to field, and a fat black cat who needs to find someplace other than my lap to make herself comfortable. (Just for now.)
December 15, 2011
Daily Variety
Page six, from the Daily Variety - December 1, 2011. I guess it doesn't really get any more official than this, does it?
Today I received a couple of copies of the magazine itself, generously passed along by John Shepherd - the very kind gent who is writing Boneshaker's screenplay; and I am very seriously considering clipping the article from one of these, and having it framed.
Because I'm just that kind of dork, that's why.
[:: happydances ::]
December 13, 2011
Happy Birthday
Happy birthday to Luke, my nephew - born this morning sometime around the crack of dawn. Congrats to my sister and her husband on the safe delivery of the new guy.
And as for you, little dude - fair warning: It's a big weird world. You're in for one hell of a ride.
December 12, 2011
Dear Internet
I swear to God, I am not deliberately taking a break from the internet right now. It's crunch time at work, that's all - and by "work" I mean "day-job stuff I still can't talk about" ... and not "books and stuff I am writing." See, when I'm writing books and/or stuff, I can talk about it. I can blog about it. I can whine about it. And I do. But this stuff? This is stuff that must stay quiet, so there's far less blogging - and also, the whining is more cryptic.
My apologies.
Hmm. It's been about a week since I last posted. And what's happened in that intervening week? Apart from work - not much of note. I packed and shipped about 95% of all Christmas goodies to the intended recipients; I went to the eye doctor and learned some annoying (but not unexpected) things about my deteriorating left eye; I ordered cute new glasses which I hope to have by the end of the week; I did one podcast interview with the Functional Nerds folks; I set up a second interview (which takes place tonight) with the League of Steam folks; I poked at the new Twitter design like a monkey at the obelisk; and I had at least one drink too many with some very nice people last night. Yes, well. These things happen.
For what it's worth, I really do keep up with Twitter, Google+, and even Facebook somewhat better than I do this page ... at least during seasons like these, when sitting down to compose a whole post feels like an insurmountably daunting task. When I'm bound to 140 characters or so, there's far less pressure, you know?
But really - when things calm down a bit, you can expect me to post again more regularly.
Right now I'm in a series of holding patterns. My day-job work contract is almost up (though it's likely to be renewed, at least a bit) - and in addition to that, I'm waiting on several ordinary fiction-related contracts. I'm also crossing my fingers for unrelated good news re: a phone call within the next couple of days, and I'm still waiting for details re: the movie and/or the timing of any money I'm likely to receive.
(Is that crass? Well, fine. It's crass. But don't act like it wouldn't be on your mind, too. It's on my mind a lot, right alongside the persistent worry that any minute now, my agent will call and tell me it's all been a big mistake and I should quit obsessively checking my student loan payoff information right this very moment.)
Anyway. I've actually found an hour to kill - for the purposes of writing this post - because I've been waiting for the mail to arrive before I run a couple of errands. And the mail truck just pulled up ... so ... I'm going to log off and stalk the postal carrier.
You guys have a great week.
My apologies.
Hmm. It's been about a week since I last posted. And what's happened in that intervening week? Apart from work - not much of note. I packed and shipped about 95% of all Christmas goodies to the intended recipients; I went to the eye doctor and learned some annoying (but not unexpected) things about my deteriorating left eye; I ordered cute new glasses which I hope to have by the end of the week; I did one podcast interview with the Functional Nerds folks; I set up a second interview (which takes place tonight) with the League of Steam folks; I poked at the new Twitter design like a monkey at the obelisk; and I had at least one drink too many with some very nice people last night. Yes, well. These things happen.
For what it's worth, I really do keep up with Twitter, Google+, and even Facebook somewhat better than I do this page ... at least during seasons like these, when sitting down to compose a whole post feels like an insurmountably daunting task. When I'm bound to 140 characters or so, there's far less pressure, you know?
But really - when things calm down a bit, you can expect me to post again more regularly.
Right now I'm in a series of holding patterns. My day-job work contract is almost up (though it's likely to be renewed, at least a bit) - and in addition to that, I'm waiting on several ordinary fiction-related contracts. I'm also crossing my fingers for unrelated good news re: a phone call within the next couple of days, and I'm still waiting for details re: the movie and/or the timing of any money I'm likely to receive.
(Is that crass? Well, fine. It's crass. But don't act like it wouldn't be on your mind, too. It's on my mind a lot, right alongside the persistent worry that any minute now, my agent will call and tell me it's all been a big mistake and I should quit obsessively checking my student loan payoff information right this very moment.)
Anyway. I've actually found an hour to kill - for the purposes of writing this post - because I've been waiting for the mail to arrive before I run a couple of errands. And the mail truck just pulled up ... so ... I'm going to log off and stalk the postal carrier.
You guys have a great week.
December 6, 2011
Three steps forward/Two steps back
This morning I handed in version 1.0 of the big fat day-job project and then commenced to errand-running. I've been putting off errands as I scrambled to get a bunch of work done, so things were piling up. I almost finished the last of my Christmas shopping, packed up and shipped everything that's ready to go, took the car to get its oil changed, and did a swift cleaning of the apartment.
To unpack everything further:
(1). I still have two people to cover, as well as my mom's birthday gift. (Her b-day is on the 19th.) Everybody else has goodies on the way.
(2). When I was finished packing up all my Stuff to Send Back East, I had a pile of boxes that I could scarcely carry between my fingertips and my chin. Naturally, this meant that the postal place nearby was empty and locked - its owner having left a sign saying he'd be back in ten minutes. "To hell with it," said I, so I sat down with my boxes and waited. While I camped there, other people came up, read the sign, and scowled. Then they started leaving packages with me, and giving me money. I guess they figured that I wasn't going anyplace, what with my Fort of Boxes and everything; and maybe I just have a trustworthy face or something. By the time the store guy came back, I needed two other people to help me carry it all inside.
(3). Somehow the Jiffy Lube guys managed to switch the car's digital temperature readouts to Centigrade. I have only the vaguest idea how to swap between Fahrenheit and Centigrade, and I have no idea how to fix this weird and exciting little quirk - which I only noticed when I was almost home ... and thought to myself, "Self, no effing way it's only four degrees out there ..." Eh. I'll drag out the manual and figure it out later.
(4). It turns out, my apartment is getting new windows. Yes, I know it's December, and only four degrees (Centigrade) out there, but hey, that's not stopping our building owners. Having been through this joyous experience once before, in our previous apartment, I'm aware that this should only take a day or two. Somehow, I am not finding much comfort in this - because it means two days of insulating and repeatedly relocating a small aquarium while keeping one frantic cat out from underfoot, in an apartment without any doors that shut correctly.*
Which brings us to this evening, wherein you find me diving back into the day-job work. In a matter of hours, I was informed that I wasn't even halfway through with the project, and in fact had handed in version 0.45 (at best). So ... back to the grind for me.
Consider yourselves all caught up!
* Except for the front door, natch. Nothing else actually closes right.
To unpack everything further:
(1). I still have two people to cover, as well as my mom's birthday gift. (Her b-day is on the 19th.) Everybody else has goodies on the way.
(2). When I was finished packing up all my Stuff to Send Back East, I had a pile of boxes that I could scarcely carry between my fingertips and my chin. Naturally, this meant that the postal place nearby was empty and locked - its owner having left a sign saying he'd be back in ten minutes. "To hell with it," said I, so I sat down with my boxes and waited. While I camped there, other people came up, read the sign, and scowled. Then they started leaving packages with me, and giving me money. I guess they figured that I wasn't going anyplace, what with my Fort of Boxes and everything; and maybe I just have a trustworthy face or something. By the time the store guy came back, I needed two other people to help me carry it all inside.
(3). Somehow the Jiffy Lube guys managed to switch the car's digital temperature readouts to Centigrade. I have only the vaguest idea how to swap between Fahrenheit and Centigrade, and I have no idea how to fix this weird and exciting little quirk - which I only noticed when I was almost home ... and thought to myself, "Self, no effing way it's only four degrees out there ..." Eh. I'll drag out the manual and figure it out later.
(4). It turns out, my apartment is getting new windows. Yes, I know it's December, and only four degrees (Centigrade) out there, but hey, that's not stopping our building owners. Having been through this joyous experience once before, in our previous apartment, I'm aware that this should only take a day or two. Somehow, I am not finding much comfort in this - because it means two days of insulating and repeatedly relocating a small aquarium while keeping one frantic cat out from underfoot, in an apartment without any doors that shut correctly.*
Which brings us to this evening, wherein you find me diving back into the day-job work. In a matter of hours, I was informed that I wasn't even halfway through with the project, and in fact had handed in version 0.45 (at best). So ... back to the grind for me.
Consider yourselves all caught up!
* Except for the front door, natch. Nothing else actually closes right.
It's awards season, so here comes the shameless self-promotion
Hello everyone! It's awards season and this is my job, so please click through and take a peek if you are so inclined. Don't worry - it's short! I only published a couple of things this year, and I in
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