(no subject)

What We Have Here is a Failure to Escape[8 Thory 4262]

I can't really report on the rest of the traff meeting. Part of that is because the Rassimel (and the Sleeth) got to neeping about some rather intimate details of Cani anatomy in ways which (1) are actually entirely reasonable for a Traff Student Association, but (2) I wasn't really able to participate in or even appreciate without wanting to hide under a table. If you want to know more, you can find a book of anatomy or pornography, as appropriate.

That took a few minutes. Then they got distracted by discussing spices. (The segue: "I made Anoof flavor himself with ginger syrup, but it started stinging so we had to stop!" (I don't think that's my housemate Anoof.) --- "Oh, was that Vortney's syrup?" --- "No, homemade ginger syrup, with some very nice Ulmarnian ginger.") And then they discussed spices for most of an hour. That wasn't so bad, nobody was very embarrassed and lots of people had things to say. Not very traff, but not very uncomforting, either.

But that doesn't need to be in my journal either. If you want to know more, you can find a book of cooking or horticulture, as appropriate.

And after that, the brandy and cookies were gone, and the people started to drift out. Except for Rhedwy, who more prowled out as soon as Jrakh excused herself. I don't think that Jrakh got away.

I didn't get away either.

Mynthë lurked around the edge of the room as people were leaving, and helped me sweep up the cookie crumbs. Zie looked rather nervous, so I asked zir if zie was all right, or if the meeting had been uncomfortable or some such.

Zie said something along the lines of, "No ... A little, but it's OK ... it's not exactly ... I mean, it is, but not really ... I mean ... would you like to go to Cafe du Fronde?

Well, why not? Even if zie is a very jumpy Herethroy instead of a very slinky Orren. I'm traff, I'm supposed to like this.

(no subject)

What We Have Here is a Failure to Escape[8 Thory 4262]

I can't really report on the rest of the traff meeting. Part of that is because the Rassimel (and the Sleeth) got to neeping about some rather intimate details of Cani anatomy in ways which (1) are actually entirely reasonable for a Traff Student Association, but (2) I wasn't really able to participate in or even appreciate without wanting to hide under a table. If you want to know more, you can find a book of anatomy or pornography, as appropriate.

That took a few minutes. Then they got distracted by discussing spices. (The segue: "I made Anoof flavor himself with ginger syrup, but it started stinging so we had to stop!" (I don't think that's my housemate Anoof.) --- "Oh, was that Vortney's syrup?" --- "No, homemade ginger syrup, with some very nice Ulmarnian ginger.") And then they discussed spices for most of an hour. That wasn't so bad, nobody was very embarrassed and lots of people had things to say. Not very traff, but not very uncomforting, either.

But that doesn't need to be in my journal either. If you want to know more, you can find a book of cooking or horticulture, as appropriate.

And after that, the brandy and cookies were gone, and the people started to drift out. Except for Rhedwy, who more prowled out as soon as Jrakh excused herself. I don't think that Jrakh got away.

I didn't get away either.

Mynthë lurked around the edge of the room as people were leaving, and helped me sweep up the cookie crumbs. Zie looked rather nervous, so I asked zir if zie was all right, or if the meeting had been uncomfortable or some such.

Zie said something along the lines of, "No ... A little, but it's OK ... it's not exactly ... I mean, it is, but not really ... I mean ... would you like to go to Cafe du Fronde?

Well, why not? Even if zie is a very jumpy Herethroy instead of a very slinky Orren. I'm traff, I'm supposed to like this.