Things You Learn When You're Sick

*The more it hurts to laugh, the better the odds that you'll find something really funny on TV, or that D will bring it home. Like the 'Monsters, Inc.' DVD with the bonus material. I watched 'Mike's New Car', and I swear I felt my left lung breaking up into small fragments and floating loose in my rib cage.

And then I watched it a second time. Because hey, pain is temporary. Comedy is forever.


*I'm in brain-lust with a writer named Sars. It's completely platonic....no, no it's not. That's a lie. I want to send her brain funny photos and stimulating essays, I want to woo it and earn its love and win it over and convince it to move into MY skull, and thereby triple my intelligence and funniness and ability to write cogent prose while drinking 17 Coronas.


*Here's a sample of her brain at work, from Tomato Nation (www.tomatonation.com): 'We don't like musical montage sequences on Buffy. We've tried to give them a chance, but we just don't like them. We don't go over to Marti Noxon's house while she's reading a book and look over her shoulder until she gets to A Poignant Moment and point at the page and tell her, "That's poignant, see? Because she -- do you get that? Hold on, let me put a CD on. Okay, now do you get it? Okay. Let me know when you get to page 143, because it's resonant, and we don't want you to miss it," now, do we? No, we certainly don't. And we want her to stop doing it to us.'

See? See? I that brain. I think I'm going to go see if I can put it on my Amazon wishlist.


*Not that I shop at Amazon and do little dances of glee when I arrive home and see that wonderful white-and-blue box sitting on my steps like a basket of puppies, no no no. I merely put a wishlist there so that I can keep track of books I will eventually get at local indie bookstores (which aren't run by crackpot right wing settlement-promoters, yeah, that's right Wordsworth, I'm looking at you.) Yeah. Really.


*28,003 words, and my story already has more characters than a Dostoevsky novel. Maybe it's time for a plague. Oh, but wait, I was saving that for when I reach 49,100, have to resolve everything, and realize I have 900 words in which to resolve 412 plotlines.


*A random audio sampling of sounds overheard last night, as in the style of 'This American Life':
"C'mon, bitch, let me in the car! I need my stuff!!"

"Look, I swear to God, to your Uncle John, to EVERYBODY, I am NOT going to HURT you!!"

"AAAAAAA!!! You ran over my fucking foot!!!!!!!"

"Hello, you're

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I think my computer's broken

Or maybe it's just my monitor. I *can't* be seeing this:





You are outgoing Willow. You have really come into your
stride and are one with your surroundings. Everyone thinks you are super-cool,
but you're a bit worried that they'll figure out you're pretty normal.
But you have such potential and a great attitude that you simply don't
know your worth.



Wanna see which Willow you are? Take the test!