God, I slept so much yesterday, and it was awesome. On top of the Pet Circus, the Lovely Emily pointed out that certain conditions of my polycystic ovarian whatthehell mean that I'm probably not getting enough iron, which would explain a lot of my fatigue right there. Meanwhile, the pups spent the day at the vet, getting bathed and checked-up upon, and it turns out that they have both fleas and worms (and are now de-bothed). Today I woke up after even more sleep to a wonderfully sunny, freezing-cold day; I'm going out tonight,* and I have plenty of money; tomorrow's Easter, and there will be tons of chocolate; and I swear to you, I can't stop smiling. I mean, just in a quiet to-myself kind of way, but even Sister Girl noticed
* The results of the out-going were that a small group of us had dinner at--On the Border? Over the Border? A Border was involved, I know that much--and I had the first drink I'd had in a long time. Like maybe more than a year, due to my cautiousness regarding my meds. And by "drink" I mean "several refills from the margarita pitcher." Apparently not drinking from a straw makes a huge difference, because this time I barely felt it at all. And then we went and saw The Lookout.
I've also been reading a lot of Jane Austen this week, for no particularly good reason, except that maybe Pride and Prejudice happened to be on HBO one morning while I was dogsitting. Maybe this has contributed to my mood? I don't know, except that I have very strong urges to use phrases like "monstrous pretty" and "excessively fond" all of a sudden. If you're like me, and I know I am, you will also enjoy The Republic of Pemberley, as pointed out to me by redcoast, where they have annotations of some of the Austen novels and all kinds of interesting things, including reprints of Austen's own letters ("At the bottom of Kingsdown Hill we met a gentleman in a buggy, who, on minute examination, turned out to be Dr. Hall -- and Dr. Hall in such very deep mourning that either his mother, his wife, or himself must be dead"). I spent way too much time browsing there last night. Enjoy.
("You express so little anxiety about my being murdered under Ash Park Copse by Mrs. Hulbert's servant, that I have a great mind not to tell you whether I was or not.")
What linkspam I have on hand:
Couple fights to name baby 'Metallica.'
Belief in Reincarnation Tied to Memory Errors.
Keith Richards snorted his father's ashes, mixing them up with cocaine. There's pretty much only one possible response to this article, and it's Oh, Keef. Really, it's more a matter of what Keith Richards hasn't snorted at this point, and "things that were too big to fit up his nose anyway" don't count.
Short Ends: Keith Richards: 'I Did Not Snort My Father.' Okay, now I'm just disappointed.
From psammead: Sydney Pollack plans film about 2000 US election.
From Annie: "The official Blades of Glory music video, as performed by Bo Bice in a powder blue tuxedo and featuring cameos by Will Ferrell and Jon Heder."
Librarians to sign
Sanjaya's 'Idol' run not India's fault.
Sean Connery still considering "Indiana Jones 4" role. Apparently he hasn't acted since 2003. Of course, I can see how LXG might put you off appearing in public for a while.
Moonbase [Your Username Here]: "You are walking through a chrome armoury. The base's computer alerts you to hed pastede on yay."
And in the spirit of the season: Peeps for Passover.