I STILL LOVE YOU ALL. BUT.

Screw you all for sons of bitches, you're too damn interesting.

By the time the apartment gets proper Internet access (which has now been pushed back whilst the guy buys a router and Q and I try and coordinate our busy schedules, and so could take up to another week) my friends list will be at skip 78364340 and I will go insane trying to read it all.

(SAY SORRY for the constant delays, Jubal-Early-Doomers. Life is not on our side.)

In more positive news, I have new hair! If it were blonde I would look preeeeecisely like Starbuck circa Colonial Day, but it is not blonde. It is a nice shade of coffee-brown. I look vaguely flapperish. Half of me wants to put on a fringed dress and drink a lot of illegal cocktails and be morally ambiguous, and the other half wants to go kick someone's ass. Ah, characterised identity confusion.

I don't hate my fic as much any more. Ji is a darling and has sent me sensible but encouraging criticism. I expect I'll actually post on Monday once I have surgically removed a few adjectives.

( Meanwhile, cookie! )