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November 13th, 2011

That's what we'd tell youthful queers, or any other youths, if we were telling the whole story.

I was just looking at my freelance proofreading today, wondering whether to object to the simple definition as "a website" in "the It Gets Better Project, a website devoted to suicide intervention for LGBT youth," cuz it doesn't seem to me that's really right, but what the hell, it's right enough.  (This is an editorial lesson I've learned in my non-freelance job.)  (Katie and I have been joking about putting the change you want to make on a helium-filled imaginary balloon, taking it imaginarily outside, and letting it imaginarily go, where it hurts no actual wildlife, what with it all being imaginary.)

Let's not even get into when quotation marks might be used around titles.  Going the way of the dinosaur, almost surely.  Except doubtful that the killer blow will be by meteor.

I suppose I'm thinking of It Gets Worse cuzza feeling (the simple truth of) my on-my-own-ness is a more acutely lonesome way a little, off and on, lately.  It's the family-of-one thing (sure with pets but y'know that's not y'know like y'know).  Manny's right next to me now, seeming to enjoy having his side running alongside my arm.  I enjoy it too; it's warm.  Winter will bring the cats closer.  Winter with the dog looms as a somewhat intimidating mystery.  I hope to see her gamboling frolickly in the snow, like I once saw a spaniel in Charles Village, looking about as happy as a creature can get.

Going out to watch at least the first half of the Lions game later today.  40 pages of freelance left--- guess that'll have to wait until late night--- gotta get back to entertaining the dog.  Except, just as I was typing that, she started barking, so I can't run right off to entertain her now....
 
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