Amazing day, home now. Very tired, but extremely happy.

Spent the day scrambling around the NW bottom of Mt Rainier, with matociquala  and medievalist.

Every year people get themselves turned around and lost up there, when sudden weather cooks itself up then rolls down the mountain on top of hapless day hikers. So anyone who hikes very often learns to plan for "if one of us busts an ankle and the weather goes to shit, then we'll..." Which means you carry stuff like first aid kits, sunscreen, insect repellent, flashlights, materials to start fires even in heavy rain (road flares work beautifully) and extra water.  Then you don't use any of it, but that's good -- because if you'd had to use it, you'd have been "those hikers who got caught up on Rainier" instead of "those dipshits who got themselves stuck up on the mountain..." when your misadventure is on the local news, later.  Heh.

Unfortunately, I put no such elaborate thought and preparation into making any after-hike plans.  Oops.  We found a teriyaki place that wasn't too dire, though.  I always want Teriyaki to be better than it inevitably is. Ah, well. *G*

Our original plans to hike the Tolmie Peak Trail were thwarted by a road washout. We hiked most of the Green Lake trail, instead -- but got to hike three miles in from the Ranger Station to get to the trailhead, which made it into an extremely pleasant day hike in most excellent company. Also, it made conversation much easier than the straight-up-the-mountain  wheezing and grunting that might otherwise have interfered with both my ability to hear, and my ability to answer.

It's an amazing mountain.

Here, look:

I'm still boggling. You can read about the fucked-uppedness that is Amazon.com unranking and disappearing GLBT romance and YA books, on markprobst 's LJ, here, and ongoing links are being updated at the meta_writer  community, here.

After boggling over the QueryFail/AgentFail kerfluffle, I started thinking about social networking changing the way readers, fen, writers, editors, agents, and the way each of the overlapping Venn diagram circles relate to each others,, especially online.

Now I need to write something that sounds smart about it all.

Thoughts, folks?

That's only if I don't slash the first ten thousand words. Which...well...I think they're maybe slashable. But I'll worry about that later.

The incomparable Etta James.

And of all the different versions out there, this is the one I want to somehow simply embed into my brain:

What's your favorite market, and why?

What's your dream-market to break into, and again, why?

*g*

Why, yes, I AM in the process of completely revamping all the sites I run, primarily as an enhanced writing-avoidance-activity, since you so kindly inquired.

It's going to be something like 2021 before I can even hope to catch up on all the stuff I'm behind on.

Meanwhile, I just wanna sit on a warm balcony over the water, somewhere, and sip cocktails with friends.

This isn't boding well for my immediate productivity level. But I've found some nifty homemade ginger-beer recipes.

John Updike has died, of lung cancer, at 76.

I have a number of friends who work very hard to adhere to these guidelines, when choosing whether or not to say something:

Is it true?
Is it kind?
Is it necessary?

I've been giving this a good deal of thought, of late. It honestly seems to me a pretty good rule of thumb for moving through the world.
I certainly have a temper, I know. So like most humans, I struggle from moment-to-moment with what to say, what to let go, and when to walk away.

ETA Meanwhile, I spent the day doing hoof-trims on a bunch of horses, and I'm staggering tired. So if I'm slow to respond in the comments, please know it's probably just because I fell asleep in my chair. For the record - this is NOT a conversation about race. Attempts to tie this conversation to the GCADofDoom2009 will be summarily deleted.

matociquala's cat/monkey posts have forever altered my interaction with cats.  Now there's this running dialog in my head whenever I'm around a cat - my own, or others.  I'm housesitting for a good friend with two cats this week (some odd, rare breed that looks like tiny cheetah hybrids) so I've spent several days alone with the two cats, and it's only intensified the cat/monkey internal dialog effect.

The first evening was quiet.  Both cats stalked around, glaring.  Otherwise, they pretended I wasn't there.  Eventually, I went to bed, figuring the two cats would work it out for themselves.  Sometime later -

Cat 1:  (patting my face in the dark, in the middle of the night) Monkey?  Monkey?  Who the fuck are you, and why are you in this bed? 
Cat 2: Monkey, move over.  We're cold and you're hogging the comforter.
Monkey: Huh?  Whazzit?  Get off my face, cat . . . izza house on fire? Wha?
Cat 1:  Our monkey isn't going to like this one bit, and neither do we.  Why are you in this bed?  Get up.  You aren't our monkey.
Cat 2: We're hungry.  Feed us.  Feed us right now. 
Monkey:  I fed you!  You were hiding, and wouldn't eat.  Your food is still right there in the kitchen in your little matching china cat dishes.
Cat 2: That's old food.  We can't eat that.  Feed us new food.
Cat 1: Let's kill and eat the strange monkey.
Monkey:  Hey!  Stop biting me!  What the hell is wrong with you?  That hurt!
Cat 2:  I'm cold.  I shall snuggle with you.  Stop yelling and be still. (purrs so hard he drools)
Cat 1: (more face pats)  You look funny.  You aren't our monkey.  You shouldn't be sleeping.  It's Very Wrong.
Cat 2: Rub my belly.

My friend gets home tomorrow night.  Then I can go home and have another conversation with my own cat, who will be in a terrible snit and pretend she doesn't know me for several hours.  Until she gets cold.