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“Is that the second season of Dead Like Me in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”
I finished watching the first season a couple of days ago and finished the day-and-a-half download of the second season last night while I slept. (Thank you, BitTorrent+Google!) It took a few minutes to copy into the iPod, where it rests at present. I almost have the first four episodes transcoded to MPEG2 and should have a basic DVD authored and burned before I go home today. Yeay for technology!

I have been a space cadet all week. Sure, I have been productive, but have been a bit out of phase with the world. Eric's chowder thing last night was great, but I sort of felt like I was just there taking up space, staring glassy-eyed, listening, but not contributing to the conversation going on around me. Eric: I need to get that chowder recipe from you. That was super-tasty and not, as Natalie aptly put it, clam-chowder-pudding.

Kim's recent entry reminded me of an entry I forgot to make on Monday, when my car was a frozen block of ice. No, really. Frozen. Heck, it was more frozen than my old car in Boston. Sure, a number of people's cars were covered in ice, but I think the combination of it having a thin convertible top with the fact that I drove it late the previous night with the heater on super-high might have also contributed. The windshield had a thick layer of ice on both the inside and outside, but I did not notice the ice on the inside at first because I could not actually get the door open for several minutes. In the 15 minutes it took to clear enough ice, between chipping and the defroster, to at least get the wipers to work, I was also able to chip enough ice away from the side windows to get those to open, too, without too much whine from their motors. Overall, it took an extra 25 minutes to get the car drivable enough to get to work (drivable enough == side windows down, causing the driver to be frozen beyond belief, less than half the front window unobstructed, no visibility out the back window–overall fairly unsafe.)

Tonight, I think I take down the Christmas tree. I have a feeling that people will be putting them out with the trash/recycling tomorrow.

The Burt's Bees almond-smelling hand lotion is great. It really moisturizes and smells good when you put it on. Half-way through the day when you get an unexpected whiff of it on your hands, taken out of context of anything else… “what the HELL is that strange smell on my hands???” It actually becomes sort of a bad smell, for me at least, because I do not immediately recognize it as almonds–or as anything else, for that matter.

Ebenezer, if he has not been bathed in a couple of weeks, gets a distinct odor. I have been able to recognize the smell as one I have smelled before, but have been unable to place it. I think I have finally been able to pin it down. His slightly dirty, slightly sweaty funk smells very, very similar to horses I believe.

Listening to certain Underworld songs (“Rez,” in particular) is very conducive to driving home from work at 90mph, whether or not you actually realize you are driving at dangerous speeds on slightly curvy, slightly damp roads.

Posted in: Dear Diary Music Television

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