dispatches from the concrete bunker

Got fischer plugs. Current theory: stick them up my nose.

I keep meaning to mail starmadeshadow and gush gratefully about the CD she sent me via wolverine_nun's Nice Husband. I was a mite suspicious, at first: the CD is called Stay Awake, and claims to be "Various Interpretations of Music from Vintage Disney Films." Given that the other part of the gift was a pair of tinsel-encrusted glittery snowman earrings (in top hats!) and the stern dictate that if the book isn't finished by Christmas I have to wear them, I thought the Disney might be similarly an anti-gift, rife with ear-worming schmaltz. In fact, however, it's an incredibly enjoyable collection - lots of jazz and bluesy interpretations, not really the kind of music I usually listen to, but interesting and wonderful. You haven't lived until you've heard Tom Waits cover "Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho, it's off to work we go." Seriously. Gratitude, starmadeshadow. Coolness.

Have bunked campus today, feel like death. Am at home, sniffling. Sniff.

Bunny Threat Level: holding. Feeling too crap to do any work.