Hee. So did I. Or at least near enough.

Why am I coming up with Ashtabula, Liese?

If Gordon Lightfoot is going to be changing lyrics, I'd suggest he change "Chippewa" to "Ojibwe."

Morning all-- Seska, I'm sorry your uni's being total fuckheads and I'm with Andi in wanting to take Bertha the Big Black Baseball Bat and apply it liberally until someone listens.

Unlike Andi, however, who is much, much nicer than me, I feel no remorse over the cavewoman approach.

Of course, I've just lost two hours to searching for something on iTunes that either refuses to be found or is hiding in plain site, so I may be a bit cross.

Because that's right? More or less, again. Champion, if you want to get down to brass tacks. Warren, Youngstown, I usually just keep going in order of magnitude until I hit one someone's heard of. My own actual town is so small it doesn't even have a zipcode.

It was so awesome to visit it, though, this past Ohio trip, and see my childhood friend.

Champion I hadn't heard of, but if its that small, then I don't feel bad.

Super super small! We have this thing where everyone in Ohio knows where everywhere else in Ohio is, but yeah, Champion always befuddles everyone. It's a great name for a town to grow up in, though, isn't it?

We had a big old rambly lot there, a pond, barn, woods, fruit trees, a little stream. Daffodils and cattails and lots of places to get safely lost.

When I think about that house it's one of my favorite memories, and totally the place I would buy back if I were a rock star. It was completely passive solar aligned, big beautiful windows overlooking the south-facing pond, but with a carefully measured porch so it wasn't too hot in the summer. I remember playing in the lines of winter sunlight in the living room, with my mom in the kitchen just adjacent, fire going in the fireplace.

It was so idyllic it's ridiculous. Of course, it was also a steel town in its heyday, and it's not like that these days. But o the halcyon days of youth.

How to most effectively battle the common cold.

We finally have an update from Camp Crazypants. The response to Lawyer Man's excellent bullet-pointed letter—seriously, his last response to them was a thing of beauty: their last letter had been full of bullshit and bombast wrapped in convoluted language, while his was literally an opening paragraph followed by a bullet-pointed list that deconstructed all of their bullshit.

Anyhow, their response is mercifully short and in theory, tacitly acknowledges that they're full of shit. However, how it's phrased leaves something to be desired since it's all "Ms. F will do this" and "Ms. F will do that..." followed by a final caveat of "Sound actual confusion occur, regardless of origin, our client reserves all rights to all remedies under law and equity to enforce her rights to the name," (i.e. come after your client's ass again) which, as you can well imagine, is Not On.

I mean, an agreement/contract would seem to suggest that each party has to bring something to the table, no?

Twatwaffle.

I had some tea with honey, which my mother insists is a magical cure for all respiratory problems. I feel marginally better, I guess. Maybe it's less magic with red tea, but that was all I had.