I can do this. Really. It'll be fun.

Okay. Today at the family reunion, when a family member asks me, "What are you up to lately?"

Don't say:
I got recced on crack_van!
I just crossed the 50,000-word mark on the hockey AU!
Writing gay porn! Look, I have some in my purse!
Talking to my friends online every night!
Going to Vividcon!
Watching a lot of British television from the seventies!
Objectifying men! Well, honestly, look at the way they're dressed!
Enjoying my godlessness!
Being terrified into near paralysis by the thought that Bush might get reelected!
Avoiding my mother!
Pining for Canada/England/the East Coast/the fjords!

Better if you don't say:
Collecting comic books!
Going to see the Hip in Sarnia!
Going to grad school in a year, no I mean it this time.

Possibly okay to say if backing lies are prepared in advance:
I'm in a writing group!

Safe to say:
Moving.
Applying for a new job.

Follow this up by:
Wandering off to eat something.
Cooing over the nearest small child or dog.
Changing the subject to the activities of another family member.
Telling amusing library anecdote, e.g. How I Locked a Student in the Mammals Library, or, in a pinch, My Boss Smells Funny. (n.b. Do not tell stories that require an understanding of Library of Congress call numbers or the meaning of the acronym LMS)

Do not, under any circumstances, play bocce, nor watch a game of bocce in which Mom is playing.

Note to self.

Okay, so next year at the family reunion?

Say whatever you please, but wear fucking sunscreen. Because even though "Ow, ow, it burns," turns out to make a great excuse for leaving early, it also really hurts.

ETA: But coming home to a copy of For Those Who Hunt the Wounded Down on the doorstep makes up for a lot! Thanks sister_wolf and lynnmonster!

(no subject)

The #discourse crack is apparently communicable by physical contact: iuliamentis had a dream about Hugh Dillon as Mr. Conductor.

We may have to quarantine ourselves for the good of the rest of the world, cuntfaces.