Through The Looking Glass

I am a Grown Up. As best I can tell, this means that if I want to eat hot tortillas slathered in butter and follow it up with chocolate chips, I can call it Lunch.

American women have PMS – pre-menstrual syndrome.

British (and I think Australian) women have PMT – I’ve decided that it must stand for either pre-menstrual terror or pre-menstrual trauma. Both of these sound pretty absurd, but I’ve decided it must be one of them.

My precious has blisters on its feetses.

Note: I am certain that Gollum in The Hobbit was referring to himself, not the ring, when he said “my precious.” It wasn’t until Book IV of The Lord of the Rings that “My Precious” became synonymous with “The One Ring.”

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I want one of these.

About Mr. Rogers – my first television obsession was over one of his Operas. I could not miss an episode as they prepared for the opera, and it honestly felt like the single most important thing in my life.

Despite my devotion to shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and Nero Wolfe Mysteries, nothing on television will ever be as important to me as that opera was.

I’m crying because Mr. Rogers died. Please comfort me.

Haloscan made me cry, so I dumped it. Please note that I did not, in any way, do this for Matty.

Many thanks to Heath for all his help!

Because I don’t want to type it out again and it’ll be deleted from the Buffyguide testing forum fairly soon:

She was wearing a sheared raccoon coat, and Lane, walking toward her quickly but with a slow face, reasoned to himself, with suppressed excitement, that he was the only one on the platform who really knew Franny’s coat. He remembered that once, in a borrowed car, after kissing Franny for a half hour or so, he had kissed her coat lapel, as though it were a perfectly desirable, organic extention of the person herself.

Can’t we just talk about monkeys?

I should really be tired. Why am I not tired?

God help me, I’ve begun alphabetizing the hardbacks and oversized paperbacks as well. There were a few books that were hard to categorize – and I do mean between fiction and non-fiction. What? We have weird books.

In other news, I am about 2 minutes late in wishing Pat and Stephanie a happy fifth anniversary. I love you guys!

In yet other news, I am nearly tempted to unban Jennifer from my comments simply because I know she is still reading this and I am utterly baffled as to why. I doubt she’d say, and anyway there just isn’t a good enough reason to allow her any closer to my life than she seems determined to stay. But still, it is somewhat tempting.

Blech. Just typing that left a bad taste in my mouth. I think I should have some yummy juice and start my reply to Beth’s wonderful letter.