Stained with Pixels, I post.

The first thing I saw on my friendslist this morning was papersky's post about International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day! (If you don't know what this is, see this post for details.) So that was a very good way to wake up. (Not like the way I woke up in the middle of the night, when I had unearthed the chewie the dog had hidden under my pillow. Sigh. But I digress.)

My bits of Technopeasantry are linked in Jo's post, but just in case, over here:

Seven a.m. Pacific Time (new)
Little Green Cure (new)

An Attack of Conscience (reprint)
Glass Wind (reprint)
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Boy (With Aliens) (reprint -- cowritten with timprov, whose other name, as you will see on the byline, is Tim Cooper)

There are also other short stories available in the links on my bibliography page, but they were available before this. If I find myself having handled an unexpected lot of my long to-do list, I may do more html markup for things like my Analog novelette and my Asimov Award story and the one about the butterheads. But html takes awhile, and I am sadly not short on things to do this week. Or today in specific. So here are some pixels for you; enjoy.

(no subject)

What is the plural of a "people person"?

"People people" sounds wrong. So does "people persons." Ack.

Shod.

Well, I may be a technopeasant, but I don't have to be a barefoot technopeasant: I bought sandals today. Two pair. It went exactly as shoe-shopping should go for a mrissa: I went in, there was a sale on shoes of the quality of arch support etc. I prefer, I tried on the pairs I didn't hate, both of them fit, they were different colors (both of which I will use all summer--white and brown), I bought them. The end. I do not like shoe shopping. I have inherited my father's sense that shoes are fundamentally ugly and uninteresting objects. (I have somewhat more affection for boots.) I prefer not to go barefoot, and I prefer to go into such schmancy establishments as do not permit you to go barefoot. But shoes? Meh. Just not excited.

Also there is a peasant-ish dress, again on sale. And I avoided the garment that, once tried on, looked like a Goth petticoat. It did not look like the sort of petticoat a Goth would wear out in public to attempt to be all sexy. No. It looked like an actual useful undergarment to wear under complicated and macabre clothing. This is not a compliment; as I say, I steered clear. There is a reason Goths put clothes over that stuff.

Also there were very many other things like toilet bowl cleaner, wooo. And there were very many phone calls, and I'm still not done with the phone calls because the asphalt people had a busy line when I called. I really don't much care for the phone.

Also the short story that was making me tear my hair and swear it wasn't going to get finished because it just wasn't worth it -- just two days ago, that -- is coming together nicely. Which just goes to show.