Sometimes BoingBoing.net is just so good that it seems useless to add anything. In addition to the one story I heard last night on the BBC and was going to mention today -- about the heavily disabled American girl whose parents had her surgically altered so she would stay small enough for them to care for -- they have about ten other interesting things, and that's just this morning. So why bother? It's not like I'm depressed or something, it's just, hey, I bow in their direction.
The antidote to the feeling of being scooped by the world is to get small and personal. So I can report that: Cris is staying in Oakland for a few days to catsit for Six, otherwise called the six-toed monster. I overslept this morning and missed Morning Prayer. I had a great breakfast at Main Street Coffee on the way to work in Redwood City. I had dinner with Shannon O'Leary the other night; she recently got back from an east coast tour for Pet Noir, and she's planning a northwest tour for next month. The place we ate, a new Italian restaurant on Mission Street near 29th, sucked.
And I am resting my brain after finishing the first draft of my new novel, "Dear Prudence," while friends read it.
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