Last night, in an effort to ‘set the mood’ I dug out some candles, set them about the room and lit them. One of the candles was from a Feng Shui gift set we had received some time ago. The candle was labelled “Earth” and I thought “Well, what sets the mood better than the planet we habitate?”.
I lit the candles (including my ‘Sagrado Corazon de Jesus’ candle, because you really can’t go wrong with that one) and waited patiently. Soon I detected a slight funk in the air. Not the good kind of funk that announces an evening of Barry White-frosted love. No, the kind of funk that makes you look suspiciously at the cats. The kind of funk that makes you investigate under the bed. THE KIND OF FUNK that makes you think you should change your underwear, even if they are clean.
I glowered at the cats, looked around the room, and sheepishly considered another shower when I realized what it was. THE EARTH SMELLED. Not the entire planet, but its waxy ambassador in my bedroom. Apparently, when one must consider the properties of Earth that should be distilled and made into a soothing candle, one should look no further than the one spot in the landfill where all cat litter is laid to rest. The essence of Earth is cat pee, my Feng Shui candle told me so.
The worst part, besides trying to maintain the mood in the midst of a feline urine assault is the fact that the candle was thrown out but the noxious odor remains as if to remind me that we all originate from the earth and cats hold supreme power over my little plot.

My book buying/borrowing has finally exceeded my time (and probably my brain’s capacity to maintain a coherent string of thoughts). This is my backlog of books to be read, in the order I found them on the shelves. A ‘*’ denotes a book that I have read previously and have recently purchased to re-read.
The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen
On Basilisk Station, David Weber
A Brief History of Time, Stephen Hawking
Stephen Hawking, Michael White
What Do you Care What Other People Think, Richard Feynman
Passage, Connie Willis
Night Lamp, Jack Vance
The Crucible of Creation, Conway Morris
We, Yevgeny Zamyatin*
Small Gods, Terry Pratchett*
Damned To Success, Hans Helmut Kurst
Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert
The Universe in a Nutshell, Stephen Hawking
My question is, what does this backlog say about me? Are these books indicative of my personality? Do they speak of my likes and dislikes? Are they in this perpetual backlog because I have been resisting reading them, and therefore reveal something more about myself than just a person who seems to have a lot of science and science fiction books?
If you don’t hear from me, you can assume I have drowned in a sea of words.

Kaitlyn Alice Ripley, welcome.
I hope the first few hours haven’t been too bumpy. You have many relatives and friends waiting to meet you!
Scott and Alison, congratulations on this wonderful day.

I have a song and I need the lyrics for it. It might be called ‘Astronaut’ and the information that I have is that it is performed by Thom Yorke (with or without the rest of Radiohead I am unsure) and Ani Difranco is on guitar (this may or may not be true, stylistically similar, but who knows).
It’s a very good song and I would like a look at the lyrics. If anyone knows of this song and a possible source of lyircs please let me know and i will reward you in a manner befitting this dreadful ordeal.

4/15
“Oh! that’s warmer than I expected.” She glanced at him knowingly and put on her sunglasses.
4/16
Oh shit, do that again!!! I never thought hot buttered corn could feel so right.
4/17
Forcibly removed from the clan, she found a band of misfits and musicians with which to dance
4/20
My god, the light the force the sweet release the december remembered forever
4/21
From above, everything looked so peaceful. It was a lie she was willing to accept for today.
4/25
spinning, giggling, dizzy, she fell to the ground laughing, crying, mourning.
4/28
she filtered out the sunlight, the birdsong and the rainscent. she pondered quietly the outdoors and never closed her eyes