Aaack - No Title - Sorry!

Check out my weight loss ticker - down 2 pounds this week. Actually, I think the lady lied to me again. Those women probably just like messing with my mind. Either that, or the look on my face - you know, that look that says, "If my weight goes up again this week, I'm gonna wrap the cord on this scale around somebody's neck" - scared her into crediting me with some weight loss. Whatever. I don't feel any skinnier, that's for sure. I ate my Twix this evening though, I made sure of that.

I'm feeling lazy tonight - that's why I'm hyperlinking to all my old posts. I even get sort of annoyed now that I can't hyperlink in real life. I mean, when I talk to someone for real, I actually have to explain everything I'm saying rather than simply referring him/her to some past blog post. What a pain in the neck....no wonder it's easier to have imaginary friends than real ones. Also, the imaginary friends never ask you to babysit.

That last paragraph should worry me, but it doesn't. I've resolved to embrace this brave new world of Internet connectivity and networking and...and...whatever other buzzwords are out there, because what choice do I have? Do I really want to be the last person on Earth with a daily newspaper subscription? Maybe I'll even learn how to text messages this year. Then I could put my schoolmarm-ish past behind me and forget all those silly little niceties such as correct spelling and capitalization that were drilled into me as an impressionable young child growing up in the Dark Ages BI (Before Internet).....

Biographical aside - I almost went to the National Spelling Bee when I was 11 - that was back before these orthographical contests were dominated by professional homeschooled spellers; so far back that I can't even link to the newspaper article reporting my spectacular spelling success at the local level....

Quixotic - that's the word that tripped me up. Damn. I coulda been a contender.

It's late, and my fiendish neighbor is threatening to start knocking on my door again at 6:30 in the morning; so I'll sign off. And, for any gentlemen who may be reading this, remember - only one more week until Valentine's Day, so start panicking. You have a snowball's chance in hell of guessing what gift your sweetheart really wants. And we women love watching you guys sweat. (evil laugh here)