I have completely emptied myself of the need for internet porn as I have discovered something infinitely more arousing…
Amazon.com, that never-ending resource of much that is good, has started selling shoes. I have spent much of my evening just browsing and browsing and cleaning up after myself. If any of you are looking to buy me a present, I like chunky heels, round toes, and I wear a size 5.
Okay, I need a new box of Kleenex, and I’m just gonna turn down these lights. I’ll talk to you later.

Thanksgiving went off with only a few minor hitches (namely, the probe thermometer died on me) and fun was had by all. As usual, one cat looked like a dork and Chloe continued her inexplicable yet annual tradition of biting the Thanksgiving table.
We ate to excess and drank slightly less than that and I must say that next year you should join us.
I want to wish a happy holiday season to all 18 of you.

So when I get stressed out, I start to lose my voice. Usually I get a little hoarse. When it is really bad, I get creaky and I sound like Peter Brady in that one episode where Greg wrote “The Stupidest Songs of All Time” (as documented by a renowned musical historian). This weekend my stress hit all-time new levels and my voice is shot to hell. The only thing coming out of my mouth is creaky whispers and comical squeaks.
Yeah, it’s funny.
So why the stress? Well, it’s Thanksgiving week and that’s my holiday. That’s the one day that I put so much effort into, it’s my one true day of cooking glory. I start planning months in advance, I need centerpieces, place settings, candles. On top of that, I’ve got people coming over for dinner every night.
And on top of everything, like a candied cherry, I have PMS. Yeah, so not only am I stressed, but it is probably your fault.
I had to send an email to everyone at work to let them know that I had lost my voice and would be unable to answer the phone. One person responded with a handful of throat drops. Precious, precious throat drops that helped so much. Most people decided to stop by and make me talk. Assholes. The guys in my department have decided that this is the best day ever, much rejoicing is going on around me. Bastards.
Normally, I would take today off, let my voice rest, but I already have Wednesday off to prepare for Thursday. This is no good.
I kind of wish I was sick, because then I could infect everyone that stopped by to laugh at my comedic voice.

I would serve 2 terms in sexual congress.
Aaaaaawwwww yeah.

Time to clean
On any computer that I use regularly, a folder called ‘Stuff’ crops up and EVERYTHING that is not an application goes in this folder. This folder is usually a mess for a while, then I develop an elaborate filing system.
This folder fills up with bits of writing, things to remember, PowerPoint presentations about the evolution of kidneys, pictures and other odds and ends.

What the hell is this? I keep finding it in my Stuff folder at work and I don’t even know what it is. It’s in a folder labeled ‘Pictures’ which resides next to a folder labeled ‘Pix’ (mmmm elaborate). Obviously, it’s a picture, but of what? I keep sending it to people, but i don’t know what it is. It’s very lavender.