Passing the (counterfeit) buck

I blame fairmer for the fact that I ended up mentally constructing and referring to a screwball comedy featuring Civil War reenactors, in which I was masquerading as pameladean some of the time for the benefit of reporters from the society page, and also there were hellhounds in the back of someone's hybrid for it all to work. I was awake for this. Yes, I think blaming fairmer is the only thing to do.

Clearly it must somehow be her fault that the phrase "screwball comedy" and the word "hellhounds" have gotten wired together in my brain.

Oh, it's going to be a long, long con, if this is how my brain is firing now.

And also

Roo has learned to raise a single eyebrow at people when making one of his many skeptical little Roo faces.

Dooooooooom.

I laughed so hard I almost whacked my head on the table.

The flower show was pretty meh, but we had a good time anyway. I'd heard that they were going out of their way in the last two years to make them child-friendly, and I think they mainly succeeded in making them vaguely mediocre for everybody. I'll still miss them if they disappear, though.

I'm heading up to the con in the midafternoon.

I really, really hate my book.

I'm frustrated with Peter O'Donnell for making the last novel in the series my least favorite so far. I suppose this might count as letting me down easy, and there are still the short stories. Somehow the heart does not leap.

I have to keep reminding myself that I have plenty of time -- and that, in fact, I have no agreed-upon time to meet anybody at all before pameladean's reading (bars!), so if I take a little longer to get there, no one will even notice. And I have stuff to do before I head up. Still. Con. Y'know. Bounce.

That's cruel.

I am now the proud owner of -- yes! -- a real green dress. It's not quite as dark a green as one might hope, but it's darker green than most of what they're selling in the stores.

The UPS being also brought a purple dress, but no one has any songs about those. I don't think it's the nice one to make up for the green dress being cruel, though. In fact, if it was part of Cho's taxonomy, I fear the purple dress would be the ho. Does this mean I get to buy another dress to be the sweet one? Hmm. Maybe.

(Margaret Cho claims that in every group of three girl friends, you have the sweet one, the smart one, and then there's the ho; check amongst yourselves, she advises. I'm not ever the sweet one, and I tend to pick smart friends, not at all accidentally, so when I was going through coherent groups of three girl friends in my life, not just a random selection of larger groups, it was getting pretty alarming rather by default.)

You might think that it was lucky that two new dresses showed up before I left for Minicon, before I even dressed for Minicon. But you would be wrong: these dresses cannot be made to suffer Minnesota March. They are not that kind of dresses. So they did not take away from the "trying on garments and swearing" phase of con preparation, they added to it. Well, not so much with the swearing. Anyway, I think we have passed into the "don't get anything useful and glare at the book" phase of con prep.

Wait! I've been in that phase for months now!

There is not a "be fair to oneself and one's hard work" phase. Not yet anyway. I'll work on it.