06.21.05

Happy solstice, fellow beings.

Had to escape the house this afternoon. I'm still waiting for Mater's Prozac to kick in. This afternoon she was on a lip-curling snit about StepPater's not calling her the instant he landed back in the US.

So. Anybody know of any legal, paying jobs in SoCal for a non-traditional student/writer/editrix/poet/proofreading/bellydancin'/motorcycle-riding/goddess of research with an acerbic sense of humour and a cat?

I picked up my editrixing victim, uh, client's latest batch of edits. We're going to start with the order that his work appears, move on to layout and design, and let that bad boy go. I think it's going to be the first published work by Editrix Press. Maybe.

Here's something kinda gross but...well gosh, y'all've put up with my crap this long. Why not again, eh? However, it does involve a tampon (but no body fluids, I promise), so if you want to bail now, you should.

The other morning, as I bent over to towel-dry my hair, I noticed a teensy-tiny, baby spider hanging by a single, silken strand from the string of my tampon. My first thought? Okay, I know it's been a while, but JESUS FUCKING KEE-RIST!

*bawdy laughter*

Go. Be fabulous.

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