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And I *still* didn’t die. Sweet. Weights in the morning, an hour of walking during the day, cardio at night… add in some jump roping and I’ll be totally ready for boxing classes in August. God, I’m feeling better. Have I mentioned how much better I’m feeling? You’re going to hear that a lot for […]

Walked over to the hospital and went over my numbers again with Dr. S. (the best part about this whole experience is probably that the hospital is within walking distance). He’d put me on a one long-lasting Lantus shot every morning, then two or three more shots as needed every day before meals. First, the

Sorting out insulin dosages. Again. Then, I will come home and feel sorry for myself for awhile. Then, I will move on.

Does anyone have an MP3 of the track, “Barbossa is Hungry” from the original Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack? All of my music was eaten when my other computers crashed, and the actual disk I have is scatched up enough that it’s ruined that song, and that happens to be the title track in my

Jenn and I did dinner and drinks with James & Ysa last night. It was the first social outing (Wiscon doesn’t count) I’ve done since I got sick, and if I didn’t like James and Ysa so much, I probably would have bailed. I’ve still got a lot of strange fear bundled up inside of

There’s so totally a good story in this.

For the luxurious digs at Weiss Hospital, with the fine view of the skeletal in-progress parking structure and the oh-so-helpful nurse “Mary” with the fantastic “wash yourself” bedside manner and the neurotic young doctor who got down on one knee and apologized every time he ruthless dug into my arteries and splashed great rivulets of

So, it turns out I can work out (you know, doing more than walking) and not die. Which should have been a no-brainer, but you know, after a lot of low sugar days the week before last, well, I was pretty primed for the possibility of failure. I’m also really liking having biceps again. When

Hopefully available at WFC in November, containing a nice little brutal women piece of fiction from yours truly.

Are there not enough good SF/F storytellers? Not enough good storytellers writing about radical feminism/gender/body politics? Or, you know, is feminism just so five minutes ago that we’re all content to write about strong female heroines who are just assumed to be “equal” in whatever made-up society we throw together – where men are men