I have the memory of a goldfish.

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Too good not to share. :)

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This is the comedian I was talking about. I <3 her!

I scraped through geometery, barely, years ago. SFB isn't getting any help from me. Perhaps one of you nice people can help?

Does anyone know or has anyone heard if there's a movie in the making based on the Jasper Fforde "Thursday Next" series of novels? I'm reading Something Rotten at the moment and think the man is the most bloody brilliant farcical writer in a long time. I'd love to see Hollywood do the character of Thursday Next justice but I'd bet they had someone completely wrong play her...someone sexed up for the screen.


(I'm seriously considering this purchase!)

*Edited to add: I just converted GBP to USD and as much as I'd like this t-shirt, I'm not paying over $25 for it. :(

Savagefuzzball has been learning about the Ebola virus in science, recently. The symptoms and conditions of the virus have stuck with her like the plots and images of horror movies we've allowed her to see. It's frightening but so extreme and alien as to be fascinating (like a train wreck) at the same time.

Friday night, we were lying on my bed just talking and laughing about nothing in particular. She shared some particularly gruesome details about ebola, we moved on to astronomy and then, somehow, we were on the subject of God. As you all know, my memory is sketchy at the best of times. All I remember was that I was considering, aloud, the possible manifestations God might take. Although we refer to Him as "He", we don't subscribe to the belief that God is male or, even, restricted to a form we'd recognize. So, I was considering the "God as a ball of white light/energy" concept when, out of the blue, SFB turns to me and says, "Man, I would not want to bleed from my anus".

Obviously, in the ten minutes we'd meandered from subject to subject, in the back of her mind she was still obsessing over symptoms of the ebola virus! All weekend this was the new "catch phrase", trotted out at the most unlikely times and good for a few chuckles.

( Buddy gets a bath but is still full of piss and vinegar )

Late Friday afternoon, I went out to have the car washed. Evidently, every one else had the same idea because the car wash had a line out to the street. If I had waited in the line, I'd have never made it in time to pick SFB from play practice. Damn!

All was not lost, though! Next door to the car wash is an Arby's. Recently, MrBug rhapsodized over a roast beef and cheese sandwich he'd gotten, there, to the point that I was hankering for one. My trip was not wasted! I pulled into the Arby's parking lot, parked the car, got out and walked to the restaurant. It wasn't until I had my hand on the door handle that I realized: It's Friday. It's Lent. A roast beef sandwich was not in my immediate future. :( Damn!

My Friday wasn't a complete bust. After dinner, the BugFamily went out for honest-to-god ice cream. I had a scoop of Coconut Pineapple ice cream in a waffle cone from Bruster's and it was delicious. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. :)

I had a bunch of things I kept thinking, throughout today, "I'll post that to LJ". All of them have been wiped from my memory, now, because I got sidetracked by answering posts. My memory and attention span are like will o' the wisps. Don't show me anything glittery or I'll forget to finish my

I'm very excited because in the middle of what might have been a Very Boring Day, I was urged to go to Borders, by MrBug, and buy a book! Apparently, he was listening to the radio this morning and heard an interview with journalist Norah Vincent. He told me about it, I expressed interest in finding out more about Ms. Vincent and the subject on the 'net and he told me that she'd written a book. Next thing I know, I'm holding a copy of Self-Made Man: One Woman's Journey Into Manhood and Back Again in my hot, little hands. Woo hoo!

From the dust cover: Norah Vincent wanted to know what life was really like for men. Many women have long been convinced that men have always had it better, in ever way. To find out for herself if this was actually true, and to see where the common perception fell short, Norah did it: for eighteen months she became a guy.

Following in the tradition of John Howard Griffin (Black Like Me) and Barbara Ehrenreich (Nickel and Dime), Norah Vincent absorbed a cultural experience and reported back on what she observed incognito. With the help of a makeup artist, a trainer, and a Juilliard voice coach, she infiltrated spaces and situations women never see. For more than a year and a half she ventured into the world as her alter ego, Ned, iwith an ever-present five o'clock shadow, a crew cut, wire-rimmed glasses, and her own size 11 1/2 shoes - a perfect disguise that allowed her to observe and participate in the world of men as an insider. A sympathetic, shrewd and thrilling tour de force of immersion journalism, Self-Made Man is Norah's perspective on just how hard it is to be a man, even in a man's world

There's more but my fingers are getting tired! ;) Anyway, doesn't it sound intriguing? I'm only seven pages in (from reading at stop lights) and it's already fascinating!

Two other books followed me home from Borders - The Cell by Stephen King (oooo, mind candy! Can't wait!) and Animals in Translation: Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behavior by Temple Grandin (the author of Thinking in Pictures) and Catherine Johnson.

I'm giddy with books! Off to register them, now. Yay! :) :) If I think of what it was I wanted to share, I'll post again.

A registered sex offender moved in on the street that runs parallel to ours. Yet more shed and garage break-ins, lately (I asked the cop who stopped by to see if we'd heard anything during the last break-in, "Is it mostly teens?" He replied, "Teens and crackheads". Oh joy). We're working very hard in the addition because, when it's done, we're putting our house on the market and getting out of this neighborhood before it nose-dives us right into the dirt.

I'm sorry if I've missed anything important. Hugs and vibes to all that need them.

Ah, I love the smell of spackle in the morning.