life is a bowl of cherries

Is it weird that the scenes of Gandalf digging through piles of parchment looking for One Ring info in the LotR movie made me want to be a librarian in Minas Tirith? Because, dear sweet cosmic wossnames do they need one. The dweeb they dug up to talk about athelas in the books is clearly incompetent. I have added to my List of Soothing Mental Exercises For Use In Insomnia the construction of a happy alternate identity becoming Gondor's primary knowledge specialist, and ruling all those piles of parchment with an Inkstained Iron Fist. There may be pauses for hitting very hard on Faramir. (Other Soothing Mental Exercises For Use In Insomnia: Designing Sybil Trelawney's Divination Classes, and Which X-Men Ability Would I Have? [Flying, for a start. A lot of my Superman fixation is about the flight. Which is another reason why Smallville is irking me, but hey, Clark still cute, in that stunned-puppy sort of way]).

This entirely inconsequential post possibly brought to you courtesy of devouring the entire Questionable Content archive since Friday, something that seems to be making me even more vague and lateral than usual. Also, I have a new skirt featuring deep red cherries on a black background. The Dean likes it.

I think I need more tea. I think the five-day weekend I have starting tomorrow, courtesy of a sneaky use of leave time adjacent to a long weekend, is arriving not a moment too soon.

Anyone for Fiasco! this weekend?