sundries

We're home; we're still plague-free; we got Christmas gift technology working.

ladyofthelog continues to be awesome with cats and handling the house while we've been away. My gratitude for coming home to stuff being handled beyond my dreams is immense. After 8 hours in the car, a detour through a casino (WHERE WE GOT CARDED), and everything else, so so so grateful.

Running around now as we focus on getting Patty to India, although I will let her announce her own itinerary.

Two episodes away from the end of Angel. Oh god, Wesley. You are so the wrong combination of pattern recognition machine, doing the right thing, and a foolish in ability to lie to yourself.

On that note, I should tell you Patty and I have this weird Ilyria/Wes thing going on, wherein I refer to her as "my little godking of the universe." This is probably only funny to us. But we think it's fucking hilarious.

Pete Postlethwaite died. I'm really sad.

Um, what's up with big animal kills in Arkansas?

John Stewart time and then we're crashing.