Butterfly or lunar moth?
I'm back, tracked only indirectly by the powers beyond my control and remembering LiveJournal after emerging from Wiscon warm with fuzzy feelings. Here's a summary: cinnamon squash and rice, a hungry fun-sized fetus, the politics of storytelling, crab legs, acerbic pink-haired editors, fancy pants matching silk jackets, wandering around. More wandering around.
Back at my job among corporate whispers and chess moves, I'm feeling a little too honest and so am avoiding Others. "Madame, I'm put off by your tiny beautiful outfits and snap judgments. Show us some integrity. Take that."