Unthemed Medley
Dec. 17th, 2009 12:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
handful_ofdustToday the steri-strips came off, leaving me able to--nay, let us say unable to not--look directly at my scars-to-be for the very first time. They're not wonderful to behold, but at least they don't make me want to retch. Also, I think I was absolutely right about where that smell was coming from, thankfully (ie, the decaying paste underneath the strips themselves, rather than my own flesh). Next up: Washing more often, applying Polysporin, changing bandaids on the few raw spots left. Tomorrow/today equals exactly one month since my operation, which makes me a third of the way through my primary healing; two more months, and I can start working out again. Five more and I can get pregnant, if I want to. Eleven more, and they'll look pretty much like they will for the rest of my life...unless I get pregnant, I guess.;)
Meanwhile, Russell won So You Think You Can Dance 6, beating out both of my favorites (Jakob and Ellenore)--not that I didn't like Russell, because I did. But once more, we have to remember that the title is America's Favorite Dancer, and America really doesn't like people who are A) classically trained/technically adept and B) don't necessarily conform to "normal" sexual paradigms. (Jakob, sweet guy and great partner that he is, is both creepily flexible and undeniably gay; Ellenore has been labelled "kooky" and "eccentric" throughout because even though she's frickin' gorgeous, her sheer inventive athleticism always outshines her sexuality--she competes like a dude, and makes no apologies for it.)
On the writing front, I've made copious notes, but haven't gotten around to inputting them as yet. This is somewhat because I'm waiting to start edits on A Book..., and also because Christmas is catching up to me. Cal has Mom's cold, which is making him nutty. OTOH, he's also experimenting with parts of speech, probably because of Schoolhouse Rock. The other day he took a phrase and started bending it, provoking an interesting series of back-and-forths:
"The baby is a boy."
"You're a boy."
"The baby is a scream."
"The baby is screaming. And 'to scream' is a..."
"Verb! That's what's happening! The baby is a cymbals."
"The baby has some cymbals."
"Crash!"
And--there you have it. I need to go do some dishes, then go to bed.
Meanwhile, Russell won So You Think You Can Dance 6, beating out both of my favorites (Jakob and Ellenore)--not that I didn't like Russell, because I did. But once more, we have to remember that the title is America's Favorite Dancer, and America really doesn't like people who are A) classically trained/technically adept and B) don't necessarily conform to "normal" sexual paradigms. (Jakob, sweet guy and great partner that he is, is both creepily flexible and undeniably gay; Ellenore has been labelled "kooky" and "eccentric" throughout because even though she's frickin' gorgeous, her sheer inventive athleticism always outshines her sexuality--she competes like a dude, and makes no apologies for it.)
On the writing front, I've made copious notes, but haven't gotten around to inputting them as yet. This is somewhat because I'm waiting to start edits on A Book..., and also because Christmas is catching up to me. Cal has Mom's cold, which is making him nutty. OTOH, he's also experimenting with parts of speech, probably because of Schoolhouse Rock. The other day he took a phrase and started bending it, provoking an interesting series of back-and-forths:
"The baby is a boy."
"You're a boy."
"The baby is a scream."
"The baby is screaming. And 'to scream' is a..."
"Verb! That's what's happening! The baby is a cymbals."
"The baby has some cymbals."
"Crash!"
And--there you have it. I need to go do some dishes, then go to bed.
