it's in the tia maria

We're only nineteen days short of the most important date in the Northern Hemisphere calendar; that's enough to cheer the spirits of this oppugnant of non-apparent daylight, perennial greyness and a distinct lack of contrast in the world around. Don't get me wrong; bracing cold isn't so soul destroying when accompanied by skies of brilliant azure and sunshine aplenty, but heavy skies, while worthy for the power that they wield over my moods, are easily tired of when they become the norm. I curse the crazy fools who, in the extreme heat of the summer past, yearned vociferously for the cold. You got your wish; you've had enough; I have to endure. Don't be fooled, I'm in a brilliant mood.

I was invited to be the live-in houseboy of three different people at a Thanksgiving dinner this weekend; two gay men, one gay female. All because I made a tiramisu on Saturday morning. Food works wonders, no?

Novel, but I declined... low salaries.