Where were we? I haven't bothered to read issue 35 yet. Still attempting to recover from the nausea caused by Jeanty's art in issue 34. It's not a priority on my reading list. I was feeling sad about that for a while, because it's not what I'd hoped for from the comics, but I have moved on to feeling mild irritation whenever I think about them. I'll be making a "MILDLY IRRITATED" sign to picket Whedon with shortly, since that is the only possible useful expression of my reaction to the comics.
It another cold, wet spring day here in the San Francisco area. I'm wrapped up in a blanket listening to the rain on the arbor over my lovely new too-chilly-to-sit-on deck. It's bucketing down. The cats are in their usual morning position: curled up together on the top of the cat tree. It's supposed to rain all week. Listening to a new release from Kyte and having mixed thoughts about it. It's good music for a rainy day, at least.
Back to attempting to be productive. For sufficiently useless values of productive, that is.