sovay | Take off your mask when you talk to me

Way too much of my life has become a sleep journal. I slept for the solstice, so I spent a lot of time basking in the afternoon sun and wrote extensively about Joseph Losey's scathing and highly recommended noir The Prowler (1951). I spent the following day working and did not sleep that night because I needed to get up early in order to catch a train to Providence, as a result of which I arrived at South Station half an hour ahead of schedule and spent my spare time discovering and reading Donald E. Westlake's Somebody Owes Me Money (1969) from Barbara's Bestsellers. Last night in Providence, with Hubero crouching on the clothes chest beside the inflatable mattress and Selwyn the curly-tailed monster cat bolting intermittently through the living room, I slept enough to dream, although not to recall the specifics.

I write this entry from

greygirlbeast and

humglum's front room. I have learned that the world contains both mermaid tights and—finally—a genderqueer mer-person T-shirt. Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling is playing their last Boston show tonight at the Middle East. If it's June 23rd, it's Alan Turing's hundred and fourth birthday. Please enjoy Jim Ottaviani and Leland Purvis' The Imitation Game (2014), which I have been coveting in print form since I spotted it in Hub Comics a week ago. Unlike the film of the same name, it also does a really good Joan Clarke.

Take off your mask when you talk to me

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