Sports. Bah.

It's from Plei's LJ about the last SPN ep. I would have credited her, but I couldn't figure out if I should use Plei or her LJ name, so I didn't.

Hee. You know, either is correct!

And sometimes, I can't figure it out, either. It gets a little nuts when I'm thinking of myself in third person and find that the name I'm using isn't the one I was given at birth.

So, is the Football Season over for Seattle? Please tell me yes.o

Mmm. Sounds good. I wish I could get miso.

I flaked out on my planned pecan encrusted chicken fingers dish and just made spaghetti. Homemade sauce, at least. I'm hungry again now, though.

And I'm tired just thinking about this upcoming week. Recording sessions, mixing sessions, store classes, music school classes, reporting, admin, planning for the following week's workshops.

So, is the Football Season over for Seattle? Please tell me yes.o

Yep.o

No matter how many times it's explained to me, football remains nothing but white noise. I just don't. get. it.

Baseball is the Odyssey. Football is the Illiad.

George Carlin had a great bit on the difference. "In football you blitz and march into the opposing team's territory. In baseball you try to go home."

Oh, and thanks for the book-ma. MS isn't due until April, but I'm running out of weekends that don't have Little League in them. So I'm trying to be as productive as possible.

Ultimately, the entire book is roughly equal in length to what Ple does in a weekend of fan fiction frenzy. 30,000 words. Of course, after I've done nine drafts of everything then I've covered more territory.

I have conquered the jar of pasta sauce that was trying to kill me.

YAY!

I have a cat sleeping on my leg, so I have to continue watching the Monk Marathon.

Today: bacon and eggs made, flank steak marinating, and fruitcake happily bubbling away (thanks for the answer on the clementine, Cindy, btw).

Baseball is the Odyssey. Football is the Illiad.

George Carlin had a great bit on the difference. "In football you blitz and march into the opposing team's territory. In baseball you try to go home."

Oh, I like that.

30,000 words.

::cries::

I'll have written the last 15,000 of 90,000 this weekend. My own fault, entirely, but still. My neck and shoulders hurt like whoa. I'm determined not to do a marathon like this again, unless I can do it like Kerouac, with all the attendant mind-altering substances.

My cat has just retired to sleep inside the halfway ripped paper bag I was meaning to ball up and throw away.

I'll probably tune in to watch "24" tonight, just to see what happens. The two times I've tried to watch it in the past, S1 and last season, they managed to lose me after a few eps through sheer ridiculous unbelievability in plot points, but I'll try it again.

I am sorry I couldn't swing enough time in Denver to see any localistas (or coincidental visitors!) because that would have been very cool. I am now home, safe and sound and exhausted. The DH brought our dog to the airport. I saw them drive up and she was looking the other way, her tail gently waving, I called her name and she turned around, saw me, and did a perfect double-take to Jason--"Holy Shit, it's Robin! What the--!" After that, she wagged her tail so hard she almost fell over and licked my face with great thoroughness. Of course I have hugged and kissed the lovely husband with my own thoroughness and am now collpased on the couch.