I'm reading Nick O'Donohoe's Too Too Solid Flesh, which is not working for me overall, though there are some cool bits. I have to finish it so I can make sure that the thing I think is a giant glaring plot hole is or not, though. (Memo: please to only use the same adjective as a dialogue modifier once on a page.)
And also, ndannais and I got into trouble. We did a little shopping at H&M, visited the Spy Museum (Not only did I get to see Emma Peel's leather pants and Kelly Robinson's tennis racquet, but I was also six inches from Illya Kuryakin's gun--and various less media-friendly spy tools, including a replica of a Bulgarian assassination umbrella), and then went through part of the Museum of Natural History at the Smithsonian. We did dinosaurs and part of the hall of minerals. I got to pet a nickel-iron meteorite. We schlepped all over DC. My feet hurt.
And then we got sick on chili.
And so to bed.