I was dancing the Obama-rama dance last night when I read on the Beeb that Barack Obama is entering the Presidential race. He’s not going to be nearly experienced enough by 2008, but he’s been voting pretty consistently with my voice for the whole time he’s been in the Senate. And, dammit, he’s a Leo. No wonder he just oozes charm and warmth. (While I don’t have his exact birth data, I can still tell he announced his candidacy during a significant transit to his natal Mercury. This is good news because it means he’s astro-trackable.)

This morning, I finished up Part II of the BDSM in France article for ErosZine.com, and sent it to The Frenchman for review. Both articles together are a good 2900 words. That’s a nice cart load of words about latex, floggers and butt plugs!

The rest of the day has been spent repaying favors. I got dressed and went to La Poste to finally (after much La Poste drama) mail something to a friend who’d helped me get some badly needed herbal supplements from the U.S. And I just finished editing a French friend’s resume who is looking for work in the U.S. She’s helped me with so much here that it’s the least I could do.

Now I’m relaxing and thinking about Thrilled. I laughed so much yesterday that I felt guilty. How can it be “work” when it’s so damned funny? How is this “real” writing? If my agent says it’s criminal for me not to write funny, why does “going straight” feel so…bent?

To cure my overdose of funny business, I chewed through to the 1/3 mark of Mystic River. Super grim, this. I definitely want to read Shutter Island. Dude is sometimes a bit wordy, but he can write.

Damn.