I’m terribly busy with this glass of wine, reading my new books.
…Portland OR, and Powell’s are to blame, but I think it was in the end inevitable that I would want to blow off any real blogging for the day.
It’s my Birthday. I don’t have to.
…So there.
More will be revealed later, when I feel ready to peel my eyeballs from my new toys.
Right now, I want to be selfish and just go back to playing.
…So I’m gonna.
…And it will be good, and informative, and funny, and dramatical, by turn…depending on whatever it is I am consumed in at the time.
…But right now, I’m consumed in washing my face, and brushing my teeth…so I can snuggle up in bed with glossy pages, and funny Brit accents, and Joss Whedon anecdotes, and Hedda Hopper bitchings, Nazi flounderings, Midwifery, and period English Drama in real, live, paper book form.
Birthdays are awesome.
…Even 33rd ones.
~D
