one of these things is not like the others

Pan's Labyrinth: "What happens when make believe believes it's real?" Based on the trailer and on Mr Neil's reaction, Mr the Bull appears to have made a successful fairy-tale movie for grown-ups.

Zen Noir: "Where were you at the time of the murder?" "What exactly do you mean by . . . time?" In Seattle this week, and in Minneapolis next. Thus, I know two people (at least) that ought to see it, since I can't.

The most technically amazing sonnet ever written, Mike Ford's Janus Sonnet (scroll down). This wouldn't be much of an achievement except that it's also stunningly beautiful. "We find / For faith and miracles, sufficient time."

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In reverse order: Internet, fun, Changeling (Welcome to Glen Echo's smart really dumb faeries on ice!), lunch with parents, games, french fries while walking, Prestige again, more hugs, unpleasant but probably necessary conversation, hugs, and thus the weekend unwinds.

future plans

So thanks to elf and my mad internetsearching skills I discover that Dar Williams is playing at the Birchmere on the fifteenth and sixteenth of November. Inconveniently enough that's a Wednesday and Thursday, but it's still doable. Anyone else interested / have a preference for which day?

Also: my apartment has been in a state of about ninety percent set up for the past month, if not longer. I hereby declare it to be Close Enough To Done. Thus, on the evening of the 18th of November, I'll be having a Gathering. Games shall be played, food shall be eaten, drinks shall be drunk provided you bring them. (Or you can partake of my water, orange juice, and weak Tang.) I figure we'll get started around twoish (or whenever people show up), try to eat around six or seven (or whenever people get hungry), and I'll kick people out, oh, sometime.

[Poll #856939]

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After a little over six months of sometimes-running I have made it to the end of week five. I can now run for twenty minutes without stopping to walk. (Although the past several times I was doing fifteen minutes at a stretch.) I'd be happier about this if it weren't trying to get too cold to run at seven in the morning, thus sending me into running hibernation for several months, since I have no easily accessible gym. Forty is about right for running, provided the sun's out at least some of the time and the wind's not too bad. Less than that I'd prefer not to deal with.

But, you know, progress, and all that. Go me. Life carries on.