Mild Burning Symptoms is now live, and we’ve had our first sale. This has shown me how much more code I need to write.

I spent last weekend in Sarasota, at the Number Two Surrogate Daughter’s graduation from New College. After seeing that graduating class, I have some small hope for the future. These are the best and the brightest of their generation, and I hope that they will live up to their promise and change the world. Maybe my generation did their part by raising these kids. Maybe we totally fucked up and are leaving them even more of a mess than we inherited from the generation before us. These young men and women are fascinated by the 60s and 70s, and what I did in my twenties, and what I really don’t think of as all that boho, or dangerous or even edgy, they love to hear about. Let Miz Shoes assure her readers that I played up my role as an antedilluvian Auntie Mame to the best of my ability, swishing my hot pink glow stick around like a fan, and trying not to scare the children when I joined them in the rave room.

I joke, but being with her and her friends, no, being included with her friends at that last party of their undergraduate careers was a gift that she gave to me, and it will carry me along through many dark days.

I’ve decided to start exercising every morning, doing a little workout in the pool, and although the spirit is willing, the flesh has decided that every other day is enough, thank you.

I have also joined the evil empire that is Facebook, although not entirely willingly. I keep telling people that I have a blog, you know. And I Twitter. Really, anything you want to know about what I’m up to can be gleaned from either of those two sources. But still, here I am, updating my status when I should be reading about how to automatically take posts down when the item sells. Or how to incorporate an actual blog page into MBS, so that we can have a little more of a dialog.

Feh. Enough of this idle frivolity. I’m off to make myself a martini and enjoy the fact that the RLA is out with his friend for the evening. Mmmmm, mud mask and fuzzy bathrobe, here I come.