Seashore washed by the suds and the foam, been here so long he's got to calling it home

And now, I go to New York for yet another conference. However, this has the upside of being not so far away from Louise, so I shall crash at her apartment instead of a hotel and we shall be united again as roommates for the week. She will study for her finals and bitch about econ eating her soul, and I will attend the conference and bitch about physicians being assholes, and we’ll go ice skating, and possibly I’ll throw up in her bathroom afterwards because that is what I do when I go to visit her. Maybe I'll hail some taxis, too.

I wish they’d send me to conferences in, like, Hawaii or something. To hell with these cold weather cities.

( Assorted linkage on a variety of things. )

And because of Phelp's success at the recent US Open, and because I'm hoping this way shadow_shimmer won't notice I haven't finished the underaged Aaron/Michael swimporn I owe her, an excerpt from the untitled sequel to Wilderness Training for Dummies, which is rapidly getting closer and closer to being named Big Gay Roadtrip. Swimming RPF.

( Excerpt from sequel to WTfD, possibly named BGR. )

Currently, I am swinging between moods of intense nervous gibbering and—actually, yeah, it’s pretty much just nervous gibbering. There are occasional interrupting periods of sleep, but I suspect I am also a sleep-gibberer. I will have to ask Louise to find that out for me. The gibbering is unrelated to the conference and is over something else entirely, but if anyone has pleasant calming thoughts they could spare for me, I'd be much obliged.

I don't know who I can blame for getting me interested in watching House, but I'm sure someone's out there. Goddamnit.