well, i guess if you say so i'll have to pack my things and go
mood: 
loved
lovedmusic: Blind Boys of Alabama - Run On / Johnny Cash - God's Gonna Cut You Down
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John Henry Holliday is sick of these time-travelling assholes. And he gave me 2000 words today, and the entirety of the plot. Now I just have to do it justice.
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A kind of wonderful thing happened today. When I went in to water the plants in the only decent window in this house (which is in the pantry: I don't know either) I discovered that my Cattleya had bloomed for the first time ever. I've had it for four years: I have only just discovered that it's fuchsia and yellow!
This one is closest to the actual color, but still too blue:
And this one shows the plant better:
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In other news, so far today I have run 5 kilometers, climbed ten routes, and I am about to do yoga. I am getting off this plateau if it kills me.
If I manage to hit my goal weight, however, the evidence is starting to accumulate that I am going to be an absolute fucking monster on overhangs. They're already significantly easier--and if the plan is working, I should be building muscle while I lose that other stuff.
I'm looking forward to that.
I've always felt a little proprietary about him...when I was born my mother told people not to squander their money on dead flowers, but to send her Ray Charles records instead. As a result, his music was a major part of the soundtrack of my childhood. (So was the soundtrack of Hair, which meant that by age 4 I could quote Shakespeare, recite the names of great Italian movie directors, and knew what cunnilingus was.)