Meanderings: January 30, 2000

Sunday,
January 30, 2000

Well, THAT was interesting.

I think I mentioned in yesterday's entry that we were supposed to go to a party last night. Well, we did -- since there was no fricking way I was walking on that ice, we cheated and took a taxi to a restaurant near Slussen. It was a cute Italian restaurant called Papa Pe -- the main upstairs floor was hosting a wedding, from the sounds of things. Our party was in the basement, among the Goths, leather people and submissives -- very B/D/S/M.

Which was a lot of fun, actually -- Lyndon and Tina knew people from the Thursday night party, and I had my hand kissed a lot, which is always cool (apparently the fact that I was wearing my leather corset over black and red vevet had a lot to do with it. Ironically, I wasn't even trying to be Gothic or dommish -- my back just hurt like a bitch, and the corset provides great back support). The rest of the time we danced, drank and gabbed with lots of people, and Tina had acquired a bloody platoon of followers by the time we left.

Which was none too soon -- by 2:00 am, Lyndon had put away about five Wild Rovers (a Prisoner-themed drink he invented in college -- it's a shot of Malibu rum, a shot of lime cordial, a shot of whiskey, and fill with Coke. The liquor goes in first, then the coke, which forms a separation in the middle, then you slam the glass down on the bar and a bubble rises up -- much like Rover did in The Prisoner, thus the name) and turned into an exuberant 8-year-old, eager to talk to everybody and then coming back to cuddle me and tell me how much he loves me. He's such a cutie -- the only problem was, his physical coordination was shot to hell by the booze, so dancing with him was like playing dodgeball with the Tasmanian Devil. All in all, though, a good night -- but I really do have to make the boy some leather breeches one of these days when I have some hypothetical free time.

On the writing side, I got some good news from Lisa Tuttle, who bought "Heramaphrodite" as a reprint for the Gollancz/Indigo anthology CROSSING THE BORDER last year. Apparently Gollancz decided to go for a German edition, so she's sending me a copy of the translated version, which I think is extremely cool. I can't wait to see how the insult, "Pig! Whale snot! Bureaucrat!" translates into German.

Now I just have to check my contract and make sure I didn't sign away any rights or royalties for foreign editions.

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