It is very obviously laundry day here in my apartment, because I have unearthed my overalls from the back of my closet. I love overalls but they fit me weirdly and never look right on me. But all my pants are in the wash and I have intentions of ordering pizza a little later, so I figure I need to be wearing something when the pizza guy gets here, since I am not living in a 70s porn movie. So here I am, doing laundry, looking ridiculous in overalls and pigtails, and I find myself without much to write about because no one cares about the intricacies of my laundry routine. Including myself.

So instead I am doing a total cop-out entry, because I just brought a bunch of old photos back from my most recent trip to New Jersey, and a couple of days ago I scanned several of them. So here, enjoy my childhood and misspent youth.
Here is me when I was very little, with cute curly hair. Now when my hair is short it just lies there being floppy instead of cute and curly. I mourn the loss of my curly hair. I do not so much mourn the loss of my giant chipmunk cheeks.

I love this picture. I think I would still wear perky matching yarn ribbons if I could get away with it. Which I totally cannot because all I ever wear is jeans and black t-shirts, and I can barely remember to brush my hair, and perky yarn ribbons just don’t work with my lifestyle. But I kind of miss them anyway. I do still have Mr. Duck sitting on my dresser, although now that I am older and wiser I don’t know why I named him that because he is very clearly not a duck. I’m not sure what he is. Perhaps a pelican?
And here we see that I used to not look totally weird in overalls, if we ignore for the moment that they are pink. I have no earthly clue what I was yelling about, or whether I was trying to eat the camera, or what was going on in this picture. I miss this swing, though. Then we have to suddenly skip about a decade when I refused to have my picture taken, except for holidays when I was forced to, and on those occasions I am invariably wearing poofy dresses. And even with a gun to my head, I would not post those pictures anywhere public. So that’s pretty much it for pictures of me until my senior year of high school, when my friends and I were suddenly seized with a burst of melodrama, believing that we would never see each other again and would miss each other forever. (In point of fact, we saw each other for about a year after that and then never again, and I suspect most of us don’t miss each other at all.) But it does mean I have many senior year photos, of which I have two scanned. First, my official senior photo. Notable because for some reason I voluntarily wore a long pink dress. What kind of crack was I on? I do not know. Somewhere there is a version of this photo zoomed out a little, which is much better because you can see that there’s a cute little cat sleeping under the bench. And finally, what may be the only picture of myself in existence that I completely like. It would be nice if it weren’t taken in my high school cafeteria, because chicken fingers are not really the best photographic props. But I don’t hate the way I look at all, which is a rare event. However, I do not have the slightest idea why there is a moose on my shoulder.

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Today was a frenzy of consumerism, and I am now utterly exhausted. I can only do these grand “getting all my errands done” things once a month or so because they completely wear me out. I have no idea how people who like to shop find energy. Maybe the liking-it part makes the whole process less draining.

It started out as a simple trip to buy cat litter, because I like to buy those giant 35-pound jugs and there’s just no way to get those to my apartment without a car. But somehow it turned into a trip to K-Mart, the liquor store, a pet store, a bookstore, and a housewares store. I have come home with many more items, much less money, and much less energy than I expected. But it was a fun afternoon, and I got to see very cute ferrets at the pet store.

Less cute was the terrifying display of picture frames at K-Mart. Instead of the pictures of smiling strangers that usually come in new picture frames, these just had captions describing the type of picture you could put inside. “Graduation Day.” “Mom’s Surprise Party.” “The Little League Game.” All in the same sickly pastel green, the same font, these creepy homogenous prefabricated memories. A few of them were pretty entertaining, like “Family Portrait Circa 1920″ and “Our Cat Sunbathing.” But still, really weird and vaguely creepy. Clearly it is imperative that someone break into K-Mart in the middle of the night and replace these captions with new ones like “My First Double Homicide” and “The Night I Ate Too Much And Puked In The Car,” but I am not quite adventurous enough to take on this challenge myself.

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Sometimes I sit down with a general idea of what I’m going to write about, and sometimes it’s just “Okay, you haven’t written a journal entry in a week, you have an hour to kill before you start dinner, so sit the hell down and write something, anything!” This is one of those days. Which probably means assorted disconnected not-terribly-interesting ramblings, but I think I’ll just start writing and see where it takes me.
So…

* I see someone was searching about in the archives for ‘birthday.’ Were you looking for my birthday? If so, it’s February 22, same as George Washington, my stepfather, and my sixth-grade English teacher. I’m not sure why you’d want to know, but please feel free to drop me an email on my birthday, it would totally make my day.

* Speaking of birthdays, I had a weird email moment today when the place I order flowers from online sent me a reminder about my ex’s upcoming birthday. I guess I must have programmed in the reminder many years ago, and presumably I’ve been getting the reminder every year since, but I guess I’ve always thought it was junk mail and never actually read it. I went and deleted the reminder so I won’t be getting it next year, but it made for a moment of oddness since I don’t even remember when his birthday is anymore. Sometime soon, I guess.

* Still speaking of birthdays, last night was Joel’s birthday party. I skipped the actual party part of the party, partly because I had a CD release thing to go to and partly because I am too sedate and solitary for a Joel party. But I got to go over beforehand for a nice quiet birthday dinner with Joel and Chris, which was really lovely. Good food, friends I don’t get to see nearly often enough because I am such a hermit, lots of laughing and good conversation, and as an added bonus, rats! I made very good friends with a rat, who was cute and cuddly despite having sharp teeth and big red glowy eyes without pupils. At some point I must research how rat eyes work, because now I am curious.

* In other news, I love Joel dearly. I have no idea how we’ve stayed friends all this time, since I’m so bad at keeping friends for more than a couple years at a time, and we’re so different to begin with, but somehow it’s worked for many many years now even though we don’t see each other often. It makes me happy. Love you, Joel, and happy birthday!

* The CD release thing after dinner was a little scary. I always hang with a somewhat geeky crowd and I like it that way, but this was a much geekier crowd than even my usual one, and there are only so many discussions about emacs that I can really handle. I had fun, plus some good beer called “Troeginator” which led to many Trogdor The Burninator jokes, but there were a few moments when the dorkiness quotient was so overwhelming as to be mildly embarrassing rather than fun. The CD was interesting, though, if not really my cup of tea.

* I just made gingerbread, and it’s cooling now, and it smells delightful. I have ambitions of making a chicken-with-spices-and-yogurt thing and some coconut rice for dinner, but I fear that with my terrible cooking skills this may not come to pass. But at least I know my baking is still up to snuff, because yum, gingerbread! I think my intention of making fudge tonight might not come to pass, though. I’m dead tired all of a sudden, and fudge requires a certain amount of effort. Maybe dinner will rejuvenate me.

* That Suzanne Vega song “Luka” has been stuck in my head all day, but I only know the first few lines. So I spent all afternoon singing other things to that tune. “My name is Stacey. I’m going to buy chicken now!” “We’re at the car wash. It is time to clean the car.” “I can’t stop singing. I hate this stupid song. Please shoot me in the head. If I cannot shut up.” Sometimes it’s a miracle Len doesn’t throw me out of the car when I get into one of these ruts. Maybe it’s a fair tradeoff for his awful puns, though.

Hm. I think that’s all I’ve got. It’s been a quiet weekend other than last night. Tonight should be quiet too, unless I set the kitchen on fire in my attempts at cooking.

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I was trying to be good and not write any crazy cat lady journal entries for a while there. But today I must. Because the cats? Are driving me batshit fucking insane.

It’s this damn diet they’re on. I don’t remember whether I mentioned it at the time, but six weeks or so ago the vet suggested that Dimitri, the Fattest Cat Ever, might benefit from a feline version of the Atkins diet. Apparently switching to canned food was supposed to provide the cats with more protein and fewer carbs, and I was quite willing to try it because god knows I have tried everything else short of feline liposuction. Maybe it’s working. I can’t really tell. They seem about the same to me, but with a massive girth like Dimitri’s I don’t know how I’d even tell if he’d started to lose weight. I don’t own a scale as a matter of principle and refuse to buy one, so I’m pretty much stuck with the “heft the cat with one hand and see if he seems lighter” method of weighing.

I do know that it’s making me want to kill the cats, and myself. It was going okay for a month or so but in the last couple of weeks they have snapped. Suddenly they’re hungry all the time, or want me to think they’re hungry all the time, and they’re circling me all the time whinging. I’m starting to dread going into the kitchen to get a glass of water, because they race after me, getting underfoot and meowing and patting my legs. As I’m typing this, Schroedinger is standing next to my computer chair, stretched up on his hind legs, biting my elbow repeatedly. Pixel, who was never as much of a human-food vulture as the boys, has started climbing all over me while I eat in the hopes that I will share my food. She ate half the crumb topping off my coffee cake this morning, and what the hell kind of cat eats coffee cake topping?

Worst of all, they’ve been waking me up at 7 every morning, patting at me and meowing and knocking things off my nightstand. I can only assume this is because they want breakfast, since they never used to do this. But I don’t understand why they weren’t like this for the first few weeks. And I really hate it. I am not a morning person, and that extra hour of sleep would make all the difference in the world. Much as I want Dimitri to lose a few pounds so he’s not at risk for diabetes, I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth it if it makes all three of them, and myself, miserable and whiny all the time. (And leaves me with teeth marks in my elbow, because ew.) I think I’m going to try splitting their food up into three meals instead of two and see if that helps, but if it doesn’t, I may have to give up and go back to free-feeding. Being skinny isn’t going to help Dimitri if I bludgeon him to death one day in a fit of sleep-deprivation-induced rage.

Gah. Such a crazy cat lady entry. At least I didn’t post pictures. But I think I’m getting a new digital camera for Christmas, so I may make up for it then.

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(But first, a quick note to a couple of people on my notify list in case they stop by. I’ve got three of you whose notifications keep bouncing back to me because your mailboxes are over quota. So if you think you’re on the list but you haven’t gotten notifications for the last couple of entries, please clean out your mailboxes or let me know if you want to switch to a different email address. Eventually if I don’t hear back I’ll have to delete you so my mailbox doesn’t fill up with the bounced addresses. Get in touch, okay? Moving on…)

I am having a fit of girliness over my hair. I got it cut Thursday night, so yestrday I had fantastic hair. All smooth and shiny and perfectly arranged even though I’d slept on it. But then I washed my hair this morning, so I’m waiting for it to dry and panicking because this is the big test. The post-cut wash. The new cut held up well when arranged by the stylist, but is it going to collapse into scary poodle hair now that it’s under my completely incapable hands? I do not know. I keep peering into the mirror to see how it’s drying, and worrying because one side is doing that flipping-up thing it does. I hate the flipping-up thing.

Man, I hate when I have these weird fits of caring about my appearance. More of my self-image than is healthy is invested in being a Quite Ungirly Girl, despite my weakness for nice-smelling bath products and fuzzy kittens, so I get twitchy when I catch myself caring about something like my hair. Even though that’s dumb, because since when is just wanting to look semi-nice a form of giving in to the patriarchy? Probably I should just stop getting twitchy. Unless I catch myself buying an eyelash curler, also known as The Beauty Contraption of the Damned, in which case someone should just take me out back and shoot me.

Fortunately, I’m also having the official weekend of inept-yet-satisfying home repair, which is assuaging my guilt over my hair obsession. I recaulked my shower with a little help from Len. And then I weatherproofed the drafty bathroom windows, and then I fixed the broken part of my bedframe so that I no longer have to prop the bed up on a stack of Unix manuals and trashy V.C. Andrews novels. And hopefully before the weekend is over I will have found my missing can of WD-40 so I can oil up the screaming hinges on my refrigerator door. While doing all of this I think I pulled a muscle or something in my thigh, and may have done something terrible to my wrist too. But I got it all done, satisfactorily if not expertly, and with only minimal help, so I’m feeling quite pleased with myself. My parents tended toward calling in a repair person rather than fixing things themselves, and my shop teacher had a firm belief that girls were a waste of space in his class and should never be allowed to do anything more interesting than sand and varnish, so I never really learned to use tools or fix anything. I’m picking it up little by little and although it takes me a long time to figure out how to fix things I’m very happy when I do. I like feeling useful.

So it’s shaping up to be a good weekend. My apartment is all fixed and I have shiny new tools and a shiny new haircut, even if it is in danger of flipping up weirdly. I’ve got a loaf of bread baking which smells delicious, and if I can get people’s schedules together I may get to have a little get-together to watch some of David Lynch’s short films tonight. Things are promising.

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I am totally copying another journal entry I read somewhere within the last few months, although I’m not sure what journal it was. But I know sometime recently I saw someone do a commented list of their TiVo season passes. At the time I thought it was kind of amusing but didn’t want to go to the trouble to type up a list myself, but I had to make such a list in preparation for copying all my settings from the old TiVo to the new TiVo, so now I’ve got the list anyway. I’ve always maintained that you can tell a lot about someone from their bookshelves and movie collections, so perhaps it’s time to see what you can tell about me from my TiVo recordings. So here they are in order, from highest priority to lowest:

1. Buffy the Vampire Slayer This records nothing because it’s set for new episodes and there will never be new episodes, but I just can’t bring myself to delete it because I am still in mourning.

2. Angel Because I am apparently Joss Whedon’s bitch.

3. Aqua Teen Hungerforce Best animated show about crime-fighting food items ever. Len just picked up the DVDs and we watched some last night and I laughed and laughed. How can you not love a show where one character finds a magical belt that gives him the power to make Foreigner lyrics come true? Everyone should be watching this show and no one is and it makes me very sad.

4. 24 I’m not allowed to say anything about this show because Len doesn’t watch each season until it’s over and he can have a marathon, so I can’t ruin it by telling him what’s happening as it airs. But I think I’m allowed to say that I miss Xander Berkeley.

5. Alias Silly, silly, silly spy show. Getting sillier by the week, and also rapidly joining my long list of “shows I watch because I am totally in love with the secondary characters, but I kind of want to slap the main characters silly.” I love Victor Garber and Ron Rifkin and Greg Grunberg, so I will probably watch this show until it dies a silly death, but I just do not care about the tortured unfulfilled love of Sydney and Vaughn and I keep hoping they’ll get blown up on a mission one day.

6. Malcolm in the Middle I never get to watch this, because it airs while Alias is on. But every once in a while the TiVo will catch it if Alias is a repeat, and it makes me laugh. I’m not sure why it’s so high up the list, though, because I just don’t care that much about it.

7. The Sopranos I think everything that can be said about The Sopranos has been said. But I miss it and I want new episodes.

8. Six Feet Under I am apparently HBO’s bitch as well.

9. Dead Like Me I used to call this the best show no one was watching, although now Carnivale has taken that place. But it might just be my love for Mandy Patinkin that makes me think that.

10. Penn & Teller: Bullshit! I got Showtime after this show aired, so I only watched it once in a rerun and therefore have little to say about it. But it seemed like fun, because who doesn’t like watching Penn & Teller go around debunking things? As a hardened cynic I am a big fan of debunking things. So I hope someday this show will air again and I can see if the other episodes were good too.

11. Queer Eye for the Straight Guy Dude, I’m tired of hearing about this show. I refuse to say anything more about it even though I quite enjoy it.

12. Queer as Folk Pure, stupid, eye candy. Plus it’s always amusing as a Pittsburgh dweller to see how this show depicts Pittsburgh, which is kind of far from reality.

13. ER I do not know why I am watching this show anymore. It is terrible. If only they would get rid of Laura Innes and Paul McCrane, who I love, I think the show would break its evil hold on me. Fortunately I think Paul McCrane just got crushed by a helicopter, so now they just have to free Laura Innes and I can delete this season pass.

14. Carnivale My new TV-show love, although the first season is about to end and then I will be bereft. Who doesn’t love a show about carnival freaks during the Depression that doubles as a tale about the apocalyptic battle between the forces of good and evil? With Michael Anderson and Clancy Brown? Everyone should be watching this show but I only know one other person who is. Which is okay, because it means more Carnivale for me.

15. Ren & Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon I set this one up for Len because he was so excited when the original Ren & Stimpy guy started making new episodes after all these years. But it taped four or five episodes and then hasn’t shown a single one since. And they weren’t that good. Bit of a disappointment all around.

16. Real Time With Bill Maher Sometimes I kind of hate Bill Maher, but he also cracks me up on occasion. And more importantly, his guest panels provide ample opportunities for Ann Coulter hatred, and I am all about as many opportunities to hate her as possible.

17. Date Night TV This terrible, hilarious local show where radio personalities go around to dive bars and interview drunken college students about their ideal mates, and you can then call in and set up a date with these drunken buffoons. Noteable for my favorite nonsensical exchange ever. “Okay, here’s another question. What’s one thing you do that, if your girlfriend did it, it would drive you crazy?” “Being, like, outdoors.” “I don’t think you understood. Try to sober up for a minute. I’m looking for a habit you have, that you wouldn’t want a girl to have.” “Outdoors, man! With a bear!” Drunken Pittsburgh people are comedy gold.

18. Joan of Arcadia I had such good intentions of loathing this show, but I secretly kind of love it, even if it occasionally gives in to the idiocies of all network TV.

19. Cooking School Stories For someone who can’t cook worth a damn, I really like watching other people do it. You’d think I’d have picked up a few things by now, but no.

20. “Howard Dean” An all-purpose recording that tapes anything involving Howard Dean, although it doesn’t actually record much since news shows tend not to have descriptions of what’s airing that night.

21. Surreal Gourmet More cooking shows. Canadian chefs are way cooler than American chefs. The dude has a portable kitchen designed to look like a giant shiny toaster from the outside. I need one.

22. The Daily Show with Jon Stewart My love for this show knows no bounds. Even though it lies in its title because it’s really only on four days a wek.

23. The West Wing I’m catching up on the reruns now since for some reason I wasn’t watching this show at the time. And then when I’m done I will be out of Sorkin-penned things to watch. He should go make something new.

24. Reno 911! I really miss The State. A Cops-spoof starring some of the same people does not fulfill my need for good sketch comedy, but it’s the closest I’m going to get unless Mad TV stops sucking, which seems unlikely.

25. Out of Order This little Showtime show was bad. So very bad. But I really like Eric Stoltz and Felicity Huffman, so I watched it anyway. Thank god the first season was only eight episodes. I’m secretly hoping they don’t do a second season, so I won’t have to agonize over whether to watch it.

26. South Park I think this is another one where everything that can be said has been said.

27. The AMC Project Apparently it’s not enough to watch four million movies, I must also watch TV about movies. I am a dork.

28. Mr. Show with Bob and David See above re: missing good sketch comedy. Mr. Show reruns help.

29. Family Guy I don’t know why this recording is still here since I now have all the episodes on DVD.

30. Frontline I tape this show in a vague effort to be informed about stuff going on in the world, but I almost never actually watch it. I should probably give up.

31. EGG the arts show A PBS show about weird artists. My love for PBS programming knows no bounds. I think this means I am officially old and boring.

32. Request Hour on VH1 Classic. Oh wait, no, this means I am officially old and boring. When I was growing up VH1 was the boring old people channel full of Michael Bolton and I lived for MTV. And now MTV makes me cringe and VH1 owns my soul. When did this happen? Gah.

33-40 Assorted forensic science shows I was recording for Len when he was on his learning-all-about-serial-killers spree. His interest seems to have tapered off so I should probably delete these now, because I am so tired of hearing about women being raped and mutilated and dumped in the woods. Although I like when they talk about forensic psychology, because that shit is just really cool.

41. History’s Mysteries Mmm. History.

42. Biography This show is always trying to tell me about the lives of people I don’t care about, but every so often it comes with someone really interesting.

43. Nova Again, my love for PBS programming. Although I’m still a little disturbed by the string theory episode a couple of weeks ago. String theory is dead sexy, yes, but what was up with the little subatomic particles bopping around to techno music? It was like a quantum rave, which frightened me.

44. Shorts Program Short films are a good thing. I don’t watch enough of them. This is an attempt to remedy that.

45. Ebert & Roeper See above re: TV about movies. Although I think this is in a bad time slot because I never actually see it, because there’s always some movie at the same time that I want to see more.

46.Ancient Almanac More history geeking.

47. Good Eats Even better than a regular cooking show because it teaches me all about the science of cooking, the chemical reactions and stuff, which is just cool. Even though I kind of hate chemistry most of the time.

48. Mystery Science Theater 3000 One can never have enough Manos: The Hands of Fate

49. Kids in the Hall Again, I pine for the days of good sketch comedy.

50. SpongeBob SquarePants I just noticed there are finally new SpongeBob episodes. This pleases me.

51. “Stephen Sondheim” An all-purpose recording which has yet to ever actually tape anything, but I feel better knowing that if anything involving Sondheim ever does air, I won’t miss it.

And there you have the long list of my TiVo automatic recordings. I’m still not sure what it says about me, though, except that I’m kind of a dork and that it’s a very good thing only a few of these shows actually air in any given week, because if they were all airing at once that would be a hell of a lot of TV.

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I would really like to write a journal entry tonight, but the last week or so has been all about the home theater geekery, between my new TiVo and DVD recorder and Len’s fancy new high-def TV and inheritance of my old TiVo. I’ve been having a lot of fun doing the research and playing with shiny new toys, because little makes me happier than a new techno-toy to play with, but I don’t think it would make for fascinating journalling. So let’s see what else I can think of…

At some point I will probably have to start writing about holiday stuff since it all seems to be barrelling down at me at high speed. It’s Thanksgiving already? And my mother’s harassing me about Christmas presents? Eek! And I don’t even know when Chanukah is, and I should figure it out since my brother celebrates it and now that he lives here I might actually get to see him or at least wish him a happy holiday. But I really can’t bring myself to think about any of this in great detail just now, because when I do my head explodes. Christmas doesn’t make me deeply depressed anymore the way it did for several years, but it does still make me feel kind of overwhelmed and anxious if I let myself think much about it.

Then there’s college-acceptance stuff coming up for my sister. She’s got her heart set on one particular school and applied early admission, and she’ll be hearing back on December 15. Personally I think any school would be lucky to have her, but as far as I know I am not on the admissions committee, and it’s a fairly competitive school so even really good prospects aren’t necessarily going to get in. I’m feeling excited and anxious for her, and hoping as hard as I can that she gets in. College applications are awfully stressful even second-hand. I’m quite glad she’s the only sibling I’ll have to go through this with, and unless I go to grad school I’ll never have to do it again myself.

Which reminds me that I’m having another round of the “why am I not in grad school, my life is one giant morass of wasted potential” blues. But they’re not even worth dwelling on because my higher education hangups are incredibly stupid, have no basis in reality, and annoy me greatly. Most likely in the morning I’ll have forgotten about the whole thing, if only because I have to go deal with my bank in the morning and that’s bound to be frustrating enough to erase any other frustrations from my mind entirely. And I think that’s really about all that’s going on with me. Because really it’s just been all about the techno-geekery lately. And I think I’m starting to be a bad influence on people, having been partially responsible for Len’s getting cable, Eliza getting a TiVo, and my stepfather planning to get an HDTV after the holidays. I really need to stop geeking out at people before I wind up causing everyone I know to go buy shiny new electronics.

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We had a quiet Thanksgiving, just Len and me and some good movies. Which is just as it should be as far as I am concerned, other than the terrible headache I have today. I refuse to acknowledge it as a hangover, because I had one rum-and-coke in the afternoon and maybe a third of a bottle of wine in the evening, and if that’s enough to give me a hangover these days then I have become an incurable lightweight and will be deeply embarrassed. So we’re just going to call this a headache that has absolutely nothing to do with my having had alcohol last night for the first time in several weeks. Okay? Okay.

Today comes the part of Thanksgiving I have been particularly looking forward to, where I get to call my mother and have a good long chat about whatever family gossip was dished out at the big extended-family Thanksgiving gathering that occurred at her house last night. Our relatives seem to love these things, but my parents and sister and I always wind up a little shell-shocked. We used to have all our holiday meals with just ourselves and quite liked it, until several of our California relatives relocated to the East Coast a few years ago and decided to start having these massive family gatherings. I quite like all of them individually, though of course I like some more than others, but when everyone gets together it’s loud and overwhelming and makes me want to hide. (Which is exactly what I did this year, only I did it even more effectively than usual by hiding in another state instead of another room.)

I was an only child for eight years and then a child with only one sibling for many more years in a quiet bookish family whose only heated debates involved word etymology, and large boisterous gatherings kind of freak me out. But one good thing to come out of these events is that there’s always amusing family gossip of some sort and I’m a little sorry I missed that. So once I’m sure the relatives have cleared out and I will not have to do that thing where I try to call my parents and the phone gets passed around to each relative in turn to ask me the same repetitive questions, I will settle in for a nice long chat with my mom.

Meanwhile, I am planning to pass the day in doing useful household things and then finishing up Kieslowski’s Decalogue, which I have borrowed from the neighbors since they gave me the run of their DVD collection while I’m cat-sitting for them. (Their cats? So incredibly cute. But I am showing heroic self-restraint and devoting only one parenthetical aside to them, lest I go all crazy-cat-lady again. But really, unbelievably cute.) In other news, I’m pondering joining up with Holidailies to get myself to write more often next month, but really, what do I have to write about? My life consists largely of watching movies, running experiments, corralling my wayward cats, and snarking with Len, and while I enjoy all these things I am not sure they constitute daily writing material. Plus I’ll be in New Jersey for part of that time and it might be a pain to update. But I’ve got a couple more days to decide. And knowing me, indecision will win and I’ll just wind up not making up my mind until it’s too late to sign up anyway.

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