Let There Be Cake

Last night I felt like cake, so I climbed into the car and did up my seat-belt and drove out to the store to acquire cake. Then I proceeded to curl up on the couch with a coffee and a fan and the first season of Gilmore Girls on the DVD player.

I got to remember all sorts of things about the series I’d forgotten: the stilted way they initially delivered the dialogue, back before they got used to its rhythms; a really young Jared Padalecki in his pre-Supernatural incarnation, who is tall and not quite so filled out and in possession of the kind of haircut I look at and think “yes, children, the nineties really do deserve to be mocked like the eighties and the sixties for its fashion choices”; the little things that get retconned out, like Mrs Kim having a Mr Kim whose ostensibly around, even if he’s never seen, and Kirk showing up as someone who isn’t Kirk, and Kirk not knowing Miss Patty despite the fact he’s known her since childhood and been one of her star pupils.

The woman at the store was worried I’d picked up a cake with cracks in the icing. I convinced her it wasn’t a big deal, and the uncracked cakes should probably go to people who worried about such things.

I threw that bit in there for people who don’t watch the Gilmore Girls at all and thus have no idea what I’m talking about.

Just in case they’re weren’t satisfied with black-and-white camera-phone photographs of the cake, though I have no idea who wouldn’t be satisfied by that.

I mean…

Cake!

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There’s a getting to know angela slatter feature over on the Black Static website, an adjunct to the reviews of her *many* short story collections that appear in the latest issue. Allow me to lapse into my usual refrain at this point: Angela Slatter is awesome and you should totally go read what other people are saying about her, her work, and then you should even go read the work itself.

Go on, it’s okay. I’ll still be here when you get back.

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So according to the unionized troll laborer the Spokesbear hires to keep the back end of the website running, there are new readers of the blog floating about.

Possibly some of them are robots, which is fine, ’cause I like robots as much as the next guy.

Possibly some of them are not, which is also fine, ’cause writing for other flesh-and-blood people is kinda why people get into writing in the first place, and likely will remain so until such time as there’s a market for art selling to the AI crowd.

Still, if you are new, feel free to stop by the comments and say hello. Or nab my email or facebook details or twitter and say hello there, although it’s worth noting that I’m slow to respond to email due to well, just being bad with email really, and even slower to respond to facebook messages since I tend to log onto facebook with my phone and the keypad is teeny-tiny.

But the internet is made for talking to people, really, for all that we try to convince ourselves it’s made for computer games or silly cat pictures or porn.

And I do have all this cake leftover, should anyone want a slice.

It’s caramel swirl, and delicious.