I'm much better put together this week… still some last minute errands to run, but at least I won't be up until the wee hours trying to finish my garb. I made two new undershirts yesterday night to replace the one that snags on everything, and am actually happier about the fit anyway. Shoulders sitting better, and the neckline is actually sewn instead of tucked, so it won't keep flopping back. Practice makes… if not perfect, then significantly better at least.

They're saying low-80's again. Fingers crossed.

I've been working on a few short stories this week, to keep me from obsessively editing Towards the Fates. It's been interesting - Tanek is easier to write than I expected, Niki harder. It's fun to play around with the High School years - I'll start off thinking the story's going to be about one thing, and suddenly there's this lovely important revelation or something at the end that I didn't plan at all. Also did one with Tremayne and Basil as the viewpoint characters. I'm cautiously pleased with the results. In any event, it gives me a chance to codify all this backstory I have scampering around in my head, and that's always a good thing.

Observations, in no particular order:

- I'd forgotten the beauty of a double-handful of sunflower seed shucks sprayed across the dirt road behind the food booths. Also, the accidental art of a program on a plastic picnic table, soggy and adhered by the water draining from a cooler whose spout wasn't as closed as it might've been. These are the small things that make the place home.

- It is deeply disturbing to watch a grown man drink out of the ass of a plush squirrel. (He had gutted it and stuffed it with a water bottle. This is a fellow who got sick of being a pirate and decided that instead he was going to haul around a bunch of plush squirrels and such and beat them repeatedly with a wooden hammer. At the end of the day he showed me a blister on his finger from doing this. I think this is some sort of strange karma.)

- There is a singular bliss in standing under a continuous flow of gallons upon gallons of cold water and washing the day's dirt down the drain in black streams... and alchemy in stepping into a shower stall smelling like stinky girl and coming out smelling of green tea, chamomile, sandalwood, and cinnamon.

- There's something kind of perversely pretty in looking down a hill into a haze of dust churned up by lots of feet and not nearly enough rain. (Not that breathing it was a ton of fun, but still.)

- Said haze of dust makes washing your hands pointless. No matter how many times you do it, you're dirty ten seconds later.

- Even given the above, the accidental discovery of a hose not quite screwed on right to a spigot at about my head level backstage, creating a fine mist of spray, was delightful enough that I went through that particular door every chance I got.

- DeeDee still has the prettiest voice ever.

- No matter how many times I hear Terry Foy do his show, I still laugh.

- Wandering around with Gary is a ton of fun.

- Yay for my new leather hat!

- Having a respectable number of people compliment my outfit (and two patrons ask to take my picture) mitigates a large amount of crankiness over it causing me to only get two and a half hours of sleep. Vanity? Hell yeah. But I worked hard on it, so I think it's earned.

- The Hall of Masters was condemned because part of the roof fell in. No surprise, considering half the shingles were off last year. Heard a couple crafters complaining - rightfully so - that Peterson is ALL OVER their ass if there's so much as a damaged patch to their backstage area... and yet lets the buildings that are his fall down around people's ears.

- They knocked down Falconer's Stage (Or Unicorn or whatever the hell they were calling it) and built a castle edifice. It's enormous, bloated-looking, and grey. I'm pretty sure it's not done yet. I hope. I'm told beyond it is a Special Events area and that they're going to do some sort of Scottish village back there, which could be interesting.

- Queen's Tea (and, I assume, the Wine Tasting) has been moved to the old Scriptorium. Better place for it as far as class goes. Unfortunately, the fugly white tent off Shepherd's Green in which it was being held is not gone.

- My chemise snags on everything. Also, as it's lace-ish, being squished between my bodice and my skin for twelve hours makes my breasts look quilted.

- Stuffing a single terrycloth sock under one's breasts before lacing up doesn't change the fit or comfort of a bodice much, but does absorb a ton of boob sweat. I weep that I'm just now learning this.

- Just because it looks like lace doesn't mean a fabric breathes.

- The new Dr. Scholls duo-gel insoles are MADE OF WIN

-Any run that starts with a beautiful woman nose-down in your cleavage planting a kiss on your breasts before Cast Call has even cleared out is bound to be a good year.

Fest starts tomorrow, and I am SO HYPED. (Of course, that might be the cup and a half of joe I had to keep me from falling flat on my face before I finished packing. But hey! Go with it!)

The moon is nearing full, the weather has been beautiful lately and is supposed to continue to be so, and pretty soon I'll get to scamper around my favorite playground like a rambunctious squirrel.

BounceBounceBounceBounceBounce!!!! !

The only thing that's going to be REALLY weird is that this is the first time in ten years I'll be out there and NOT have a book in the works. Granted, Book Three is still in edits, but all the big content stuff is done (I hope).

(The hard part will be not telling everybody what's going to happen. It's like having a really cool birthday present planned and knowing you're going to have to wait a year until the recipient unwraps it. I'm HORRIBLE about displaying that kind of patience.)

I'll just have to concentrate on short story material. I've already typed up a few bits of inspiration for Ryna: The High School Years, and it's been interesting seeing the world through much younger versions of her, Niki, and Tanek. It unexpectedly explained Tanek's Spartan decorating style and his gift with shields, which convinced me more than ever that I really have nothing to do with creating these things. I'm just the conduit.

I'm okay with that.

I wonder what stories will choose to bless me this year?

Joe Kudla - Snot, of Puke and Snot - passed away today.

It's not that I knew him personally, of course. But, love their show, hate it, or somewhere in between, you sort of have to stand in shock at the passing of a legend... and feel for his stage partner, who has performed with him for three and a half decades. That's a commitment that outlasts a hell of a lot of marriages.

So long, Joe - and thanks for all the fish.

Because you just can't get cooler than War for the Oaks swag.

Click here. Buy stuff. It's cool. (Ryna desperately wants an Eddi and the Fey T-shirt.)

And while you're at it, grab the Cats Laughing CD's - especially Another Way to Travel which has songs from the aforementioned awesome book on it.

And get stuff from the Flash Girls too, because they're just that neat.