And the world don't stop every time that you fall

And lo, I have seen the Psychedelic Furs, and they were good. Mars Williams on sax made the show--my love of 80s sax is deep and abiding.

Sure enough, complaining to LJ solved my problem. I know who the Plucky Love Interest is, what her immediate history and damage are, and why she won't be able to walk away when confronted with her girlfriend's family drama. This character has been waiting for her story for five years, so I'm glad she's finally found it.

I think this means I'm finally ready to rewrite the first chapter. After I finish revising Kingdoms, of course.

Keeping the wall wet

RIP my Fluevog boots, August 2007 to April 2011. For nearly four years they were the best boots I've ever had, but a short walk after the concert last night resulted in wicked blisters. I think their magic is over. That or I need to get them resoled.

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I don't have intelligent and insightful writing topics to post about, so I will complain further about my home improvement projects.

The bedroom is nearly painted, but remains evil. It's like painting with watercolor--old layers can't be covered up. I don't know what singular evil is contained in "vin rouge," but it's the most evil supposedly inanimate object I've ever encountered. It would probably take five coats to get an even tone, and since each coat is a gallon of paint, that is not happening. We've decided to embrace the slightly streaky, mottled result as a feature instead of a bug. We'll pretend it's coffee-house chic. Also, we'll hang a lot of pictures.

While the paint dries, I'm starting to tile the kitchen. This involves one round of scrubbing the slab with a brush and picking at lingering scraps of linoleum paper. Next, I mop. If that leaves the floor reasonably clean, I'll then put down the sealant. When that dries, I can start tiling. I'm not sure where "praying for the sweet release of death" falls amongst these steps, but I know it happens somewhere.