I lit it, I lit it. I posted the first paper (like I was supposed to last week ... darn techies, why do you bother me when i DON'T need you?) and I'm kinda sorta working on the next one. I like this compilation -- a nice assortment of scientific, philosophical and warmfuzzy takes.

I fed everyone St. Germain breakfast pastries this morning. I stopped off mostly because I found the hole puncher I borrowed from the library a horrendously long time ago (and swore I returned) and thought, nothing says "I'm sorry for being a punch-stealing dunce" like chocolate chip cookies. Also I wanted a nice bag of Lavosh to sit on my desk. But I forgot it was Friday (because really what the hell does it matter? I may never sleep in again) and so I had to bring the nice bag of lavosh home with me so it wouldn't get all soft and useless over the weekend, even though it is a lamentably normal, two-day, occasion-free weekend. Too short for the beans to cool, too long for the lavosh to stay crispy. Such is life.

And death, the weird news of the day: Jonathan Brandis is dead. I loved SeaQuest DSV (it was a shiny-faced 13-year-old's stay-home-every-damn-day-of-the-week-anyway TV obsession -- I do admit, it was an obsession) and I thought "Ladybugs" was damn funny. I had a thing for Jonathan Brandis even when he was dressed up like a female soccer player. He was the geek girl's choice. Here's to you, Lucas Wolenczek.

Last week my friend's 12-year-old cat died, which I found out when I flung open her door while the Loveys were going potty and announced, "I'm not as happy as you are today. What's your secret?" She bounced over and I thought all was well ... but then she told me her smile was absolutely fake and that she was wearing about six pounds of makeup to conceal the bags she got from crying for hours after her baby died in her arms. She set me straight in the perspective department that day, needless to sputter. Anyway I had some love and chocolate chip cookies for her as well, but she was out yesterday and today and I don't guess those cookies will survive the weekend. I think I'll write her a card like I originally planned. And maybe buy her next martini. To all our babies, especially the ones we can't anymore skritch or dance with, love and all the jellybeans that rolled under the couch that you could never quite reach.

Ew-kay, it's time I think to pop another and kill this paper so I can get a nap before going to class. It feels like a jambalicious saturday already.