There have just been too many roadblocks this week. The one good part was that we got past the inspection report on Chez Fou, and are now officially in pending (aka wait until closing) status. Everything...right now, which means that as soon as my drugs kick in, I may be able to get at least a few household chores done. And then I have a bridal shower(!) to go to this afternoon. Should be... Yeah. W'ev. ;

I have been kind of testy all week (I'm working on it) and last night, as I lay awake at three AM, it occurred to me that this makes three nights this week I have gotten almost no sleep. I'm not lying there worrying about anything, I just can't fall asleep. And it occurred to me there might just be a connection between that and the current flaws in my disposition. Ya think???

I really should be avoiding the subject, because it's starting to piss me off too much, but... If Jackson weren't a famous pop star, but instead the plumber down the street, with all the same "quirks"...unfettered access to his victims because of his fame. And now those same victims are being victimized again as the world strives to plug their ears and pretend that nothing but his music matters. Disgusting

I don't know why this came to mind, but I was just thinking about an episode of Good Times I saw a few days ago (hey, I was bored.) Michael had gotten suspended from school for calling George Washington...do this with celebrities. I really, really don't give a shit how good a musician Michael Jackson was. On a personal level, he was a creepy asshat. Don't expect me to ignore that and pretend otherwise

The past several days of my life, in bullet form: *Thanks very much to some needed help, the giant hole in the family room ceiling (from the leaking pipe/scary mold from hell problem) is now patched... It's time to move on, and the process, while uncomfortable, is a good mental and practical roto-rootering. It'll be interesting to see how our life gets redefined with a new place when that comes

Fugly Horse of the Day blog--I no longer read the "serious" posts because you can never tell when she's going to fall into hatefulness, but I do sometimes check out the less serious ones, like when she...pick on my use of old training words unless they are clearly linked to a disposition to break my horse's spirit and disrespect her as an individual. And leave my damned bright-coloured tack alone

It's apparently Prime Minister Harper's 50th birthday today. I sent him greetings. Well, actually I sent him an irate letter on behalf of my regional health library association, protesting budget cuts to the National Research Council which will have the effect of gutting Canada's national science library. But who's counting?

Not. Enough. Hours. There was so much I wanted to do today, but I agreed to switch classes this morning (meaning I wasn't out of there until nigh on eleven). Then I had to go to the grocery store and...were in my joust colors, I couldn't resist. The (nearly) final chapter of 'Kitchen! The Remodel' won't likely hit this page until Monday. Sorry. I know you're all waiting with keen anticipation

A couple of weeks ago someone on a writing list recommended an author named Temple Grandin, who apparently writes extremely well about her autism--the person who recommended the book has a brother with... or making claims based on information we might not adequately understand. It seems to be a good way of creating unbelievable characters. And, based on this book, pretty unpalatable non-fiction

...but a colleague of mine just consulted me about an assignment her son, who is fifteen, was given in school. The assignment cannot be completed without reference to academic journal articles. Which means... "I consulted an academic librarian." I bet they have librarians at his school, though. And if the teacher really, seriously did not even consult with them in advance of this assignment, he's an idiot