It’s easy to get the feeling that you know that language just because when you order a beer they don’t bring you oysters.

Paul Child, to his wife Julia, their first year in France.

1. So, I’m fairly certain that when I do end up writing in the Merlin fandom, it’ll be in the RPS department of the fandom. Time to admit there might be a reason I like Arthur and Merlin in a modern AU setting.

2. Spencer Smith is going through a pretty embarrassing frat boy phase that I can’t particularly begrudge him for because he is only 21 and didn’t get a chance to go to college. It just means that the next story I write might be a little different than the first.

3. I read Cleve Jones’s memoir, which is half about him and half about the AIDS quilt project he started, but I still read the thing with one eye to the pieces of canon between the lines for my favourite Milk pairing. (You may remember them as the two boys making out in the darkroom.) And there’s actually some good stuff in there! Dick ran Cleve’s campaign for Assemblyman in the ’80s!

4. Every show I watch is on Monday, so I get epically behind pretty fast. But here are some thoughts, in order of timeslot: I’m not crazy about where Chuck is headed. On the other hand, if Big Bang Theory isn’t headed in the Penny/Sheldon direction, I don’t know what’s going on. I kind of want to read some Eric/Jonathan fic. I might give up Castle; Nathan Fillion’s face alone isn’t worth the effort.

5. Kings! Man, I wish I liked the David more so I would want to slash him with the Jonathan. Ian McShane isn’t enough to carry this show for me, though he makes a valiant effort.

6. I really want a literature fandom. There are pages missing from Mary Shelley’s journal–the exact time she and Shelley and Byron and Claire spent in Geneva. William Carlos Williams flamed Eliot because Eliot didn’t write him back, then went and called Williams’s work “American.” Dorothy Parker/Robert Benchley=OTP. I was in school for a long time, OK? There’s a lot more of this.

People have been known to keep [hams] for as long as twenty [years], perhaps curing the ham when a child is born and saving it for the son’s or daughter’s wedding party.

James Beard, who says this is a real thing, and I’m inclined to believe him. Wish my parents had a Smithfield ham in our basement, waiting for me to get married.

1. It hasn’t been a year in Panic yet, but I’m already missing that first flush of a fandom. I want something to fall in love with again.

Here is the version of Waldorf Salad that James Beard likes.

Combine 1½ cups diced apple (if the apples are beautifully colored, you might keep some of the brilliant red or green skin on) and 1½ cups diced celery, and bind them together with about ⅔ cup of good mayonnaise, flavored with a touch of mustard. The quality of the ingredients is important. The apple must be tart, crisp, and juicy, with a good bite, the celery cut very, very thinly, not in great chunks, and the mayonnaise homemade and well seasoned with mustard, but no sugar, please. Arrange on a bed of greens, garnish with coarsely chopped walnuts, putting on perfect walnut half on the top, and serve at once.

Gus asked me who I wanted to play my role in the movie and I said River Phoenix. Smiling indulgently, he said that’s what he’s been thinking, but he didn’t know if River was into it. One day the phone rang and it was River and he said, “Oh, you’re the guy I’m going to play in the movie.” “We’re going to have to get together,” I said. “I’ve got to teach you how to kiss.” He just laughed and said, “Cool.”

Cleve Jones, recounting a scene from the first time Gus Van Sant tried to make Milk, in Stitching a Revolution (216)

As we passed each other, one of them said, ‘Too many goddamn queers in Sacramento.’ That struck me oddly, because I’d been looking everywhere and I felt there were far too few queers in Sacramento.

Cleve Jones, in Stitching a Revolution (115-6)

Mr. Isherwood, would you like to come in the living room and talk to a few young people?

Cleve Jones, to Christopher Isherwood, at “a stuffy affair” in the early 1980s. Isherwood replied, “I suppose I must.”