to further clarify/muddy the waters

Doctors confirm woman’s imaginary third arm.

I have returned from the Middle America with a ridiculous amount of ice-cream. Richard, my darling ride home, wanted to stop and shop on the way back, and blessed be, he had a cooler. Now my freezer is creaking at the seams like a cruelly overstuffed, force fed goose of pure deliciousness. Once again, I can spend time with a spoon and flavours like Hawaiian Lehua Honey & Sweet Cream ice-cream or Pomegranate Choco Chip, (not available in Canada), sold by the quart, (which also doesn’t happen up North). Life is good. (Though seriously, United States, knock it the fuck off with the corn syrup.)

Thankfully, too, life is good for other reasons. I have returned from Seattle spontaneously engaged to my friend Rafael, which was a bit of a surprise, even though I was the one who proposed, (while under the influence of vast quantities of chocolate and a rather well timed foot-rub), especially as I’m still single, which seems both seamlessly appropriate and monumentally unfair. As I said to Frank earlier, being a pair of only relatively nice Jewish children, we decided it would be the most fun if we continued with it enough to declare it three times in three days, which is sort of the Judaic networking equivalent to jumping over a broomstick, just to see what would happen. It’s not like we’re writing up a Ketubah or anything, (1. facebook 2. twitter. 3. livejournal), but as a social experiment goes, we’re rocking the house. His family, for example, seem to completely support us in this “decision” for no reason I can fathom.

Also while at Norwescon, I woke up wrapped in the embrace of two, count them, two incredibly distractingly attractive young men, something I’ve never done before, (no, I’m still not ‘getting any’, shove off you perverts), the morning after I gave up my last surviving pair of black pants for SCIENCE!!* Sexy SCIENCE!! even, as they were donated to further experimentation when it was discovered that once Tony‘s svelte, wiggling, dance-floor hips are sheathed in my pants instead of hidden under a kilt, they set the ladies on fire. I approve of ladies on fire. The only drawback is that I am now almost completely pantsless. So – internet – where does a girl go to buy black pants in Vancouver? I haven’t the vaguest clue.

In the Event That You Have Accidentally Swallowed the Higgs Boson

*SCIENCE!! is not actually real science, it is science with jazz hands.