A few of you know that I'm very deep into a dragon*con-related project right now. It's not a bad thing - it should hopefully be a very good, very funny thing once it's done - but it's not something I can show on domesticat at the moment. I now comment fairly regularly on the dragoncon livejournal community, and I don't want random people from that community to randomly come here and have one of the upcoming surprises for this year's convention spoiled.

I'm mostly making good on my promise. Mostly.

The third year will be the charm(s), the boots, the skirt, the shirt; anything but the mundane. "At last," some of my friends will say, one in particular.

I'm not the dressing-up type. Or maybe I'm the perfect dressing-up type. It depends on how you look at it. For the flamboyant, the outgoing, dressing-up is a simple matter of tossing together bits and pieces and letting your personality do the rest.

Captain's log: Day 6,351,287. I have survived great olfactory evil. Why did it not occur to me that chemical solutions strong enough to denature wallpaper paste were strong enough to cause a queasy stomach - until after the fact? Why do I always manage to find the slowest cashier at a Wal-Mart on any given day? Why does Edmund persist in giving Tenzing unprovoked bites to his ass?

I don't hate the bathroom yet. Pretty fishtank. Lovely fishtank. I also don't hate wallpaper. I just hate the paste that holds it to the nearest wall.

Errata: for those of you who haven't checked the dragon*con website lately, Godhead and Voltaire have been added to the lineup. I'm pleased. I've never managed to catch any of Voltaire's legendarily-funny dragon*con shows, so hopefully I'll be able to make time to see him this year. Godhead is fantastic to crew for. They're respectful and friendly to tech staff, and just a genuine pleasure to work with. I'm with Jody on this one; I wouldn't be surprised if they're a Saturday headliner, and I certainly would be happy with the choice if they were.

For Monica, who was, once upon a time, a high school friend; later, the only college roommate I ever liked; and now - a mother.

Aidan Scott Revor, born Tuesday, July 29. Eight pounds, two ounces. She's home, but he's still hanging out in the NICU until he gets some blood-sugar issues stabilized.

Even though I'm fascinated by the concept of wall paint, I'm still a little afraid of it. Even after years in stark-white dormitory housing, my mind is still shaped by the sixteen years spent in a house whose walls consisted of wood paneling.