I promise nothing from this blog, really. I was sick for 2 weeks straight and the kiddo was on spring break last week. I've had nightmares the past two nights and they're the kind that scar the soul. I've tried applying chocolate and chai to cure what was clearly a dementor attack, and am administering episodes of QI as we speak. Oh, and that brand new website? I got it all nice and shiny for you with hopes of the official roll out this week. Loki, however, has other ideas, because somehow I fucked it up and it's buggered. Right to hell. I've got minions working on it when they're not at their respective day jobs and hope I don't have to completely re-do the whole thing. Why would that suck? Because after importing this blog to the new site, I had to go through every single entry (all 212 of them) and fix links and formatting. Sweet muppety Odin, I will never get those hours of my life back.

Anyway, I have lots of things that I'm thinking about right now. Books and stories I want to write. I'm hoping to have some flash up for you later this week.  The Steubenville rape case is on my mind. (Short version: What those boys did was heinous. The media's coverage is despicable. Our society needs serious help.) I turn 33 in a few weeks. My backyard is full of weeds and my brain feels full of holes.

It's all a jumble in my head and I need a penseive or something. So, rather than try to untangle those thoughts here, I will give you a story from last week's Thursday Night Dinner. Okay, 2 stories...

1) Apparently Disney is re-releasing the Little Mermaid into theatres this summer. In fintastic 3D no less! My friend Alicia said that she's totally going. Eric responded that he wanted to go with the squirt guns and sit in the front row. When I mentioned he should go armed to the teeth with Super Soakers and water pistols I realized that in the current social climate, Eric is likely to get shot for such a thing. Thanks, Aurora shooter, for ruining actual fun for everyone because you were a cock.

2) So, my friend Jeremy has a habit of talking over movies and television shows. His natural volume is also loud. It's just him. I mean, I've *seen* Iron Man 2, but I've never heard it. (Except Mickey Rourke saying, "My bird" in his accent.) So, the other night, we watched Wreck-It Ralph. Afterward, Jeremy wanted to watch the deleted scenes, but Alicia, Eric and I were talking. He got upset and said, "I'm just waiting on you guys to be quiet so I can hear it."

"What's that like?" I asked. Alicia grinned at me. Jeremy got a little more peeved. I said, "Still haven't seen Iron Man 2. GOODNIGHT!" Everyone laughed except Jeremy. It's all in fun, hon. You are loved.

I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, this is honestly what my life has been the past few weeks. A scramble of grey matter, pink eye and allergies. And bad dreams. Seriously, I have a dream catcher and cats that usually swat away the nightmares, but I need a security guard over my psyche tonight if I'm going to get rest.

Love and kisses, gang.