Fresh, Hot Wastes of Time

It happens every damned year. I get really into the Christmas spirit – about a week after Christmas. Bah.

Inigo: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Count Rugen: Stop saying that!

Inigo: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Count Rugen: No!

Inigo: Offer me money!

Count Rugen: Yes!

Inigo: Power, too. Promise me that!

Count Rugen: All that I have and more! Please!

Inigo: Offer me everything I ask for!

Count Rugen: Anything you want.

Inigo: I want my father back, you son of a bitch. *stab*

Never fails to give me chills.

I just spent $100 on cookies. Something called Tim Tams that Aussies rave about. They’d better be worth it, or else I will blame all of Australia for the loss of my $100.

Went to see The Two Towers tonight. It was very good. I fear that I was a bit lost since it’s more esoteric than Fellowship of the Ring and I haven’t read the series in 15 years or so. Now I’m going to have to re-read it, since I’m all emotionally attached to Gollum and I want to make sure that he redeems himself in the end.

Why does that chubby Ent have a bellybutton?

I can’t listen to music anymore. It makes me too emotional. Hub got me the Andrew Lloyd Webber collection for Christmas and I popped in Cats; by 10 seconds into the overture I was surreptitiously wiping tears. WTF? I’m pretty sure that I’d sob if someone put on, say, Muskrat Love. Is it being sick? PMS? My doddering old age?

Speaking of my boobs (we weren’t), I’ve got two rather large wounds now that have become infected. Mastitis, ironically – I never got it when people usually get it, in the early weeks of breastfeeding. It also gives you flu-like symptoms and makes you feel generally yucky. I’ve been sleeping about 15 hours out of the day. I’ve got to be on antibiotics for something like a month, which causes unpleasant site effects in and of itself.