Confessions of an Internet Junkie

So very tired, yet I feel compelled to post. I don't get it, yet here I am. Who am I to argue with me?

1. Thank you to windrider67 for the package! Yummy cookies inside. I mean so yummy that I've gone kind of over the edge with them; I think I ate half of them. Even better was the beautiful and loving card. (I love getting cards. Really any mail. Fan mail from passing flounders and such.) It was addressed to My Canadians, which made us all go "Awwwwwww" when we saw it :)

2. Above package had to be fetched from the post office in Listowel since it was too big to fit into our decript and snow-filled mailbox. This was not as easy as it sounds. In fact my first attempt met with failure, and I had to turn around and go home. Later that afternoon both Dar and I decided to give it another go, and we fought our way in. Tah-dah.

3. What was the problem? High winds and blowing snow. Not flurries, just all of the snow already on the ground being blown around furiously. Those drifts that we had plowed out yesterday? They're back. Part of our road was becoming impassable because of drifting snow. I've never been through this before; coming from hilly New Engand, I had no experience with wide open spaces and this much snow and wind. It's driving through patches where the road is almost obscured by a white-out and yet looking up, the sky is crystal blue.

4. Whatever - the trip was well worth it. Thank you again, windrider, for being the thoughtful and loving you that you are.

5. Confession time. This will be of particular interest to my dear caerwynx. I've become . . . a tea drinker. One who drinks tea. Multiple times a day. And all it took was being at death's door (or at least feeling like it.) I've even come to the point where I like it. Or at least don't hate it. Or at least don't hate the particular types I've been drinking for therapeutic reasons. Orange peel figures large in the blend. And I take it with honey and lemon. No milk. I think maybe drinking it with milk was my downfall before. Anyway, there you have it. I feel kind of sad. And my brother will be a little perplexed and just a teeny bit distraught. First cats and now tea. Where, he will be thinking, is my sister? The dog person. The coffee addict. Sigh. I've gone all Kafka on him; gone to bed one thing and arisen as another. Metamorphosed. Become as the undead, haunting the aisles of the local Foodland in search of orange-infused teas with which to slake my unnatural thirst.

6. Hope springs eternal. I have a gift card for Starbucks. Grande latte. No honey. No lemon. No orange.

7. If I had the energy and the heart, I would here weep my tale of anger and despair over the Edward's campaign letting the fucking Right dictate to him about who he hires and fires. I adore Melissa McEwan (aka
Shakespeare's Sister), and to see her brought low by the homophobic, bigoted Donohue of the Catholic League and plagued and vilified by the hypocritical and vituperative likes of Michele Malkin . . . Edwards should be ashamed. His campaign should be ashamed. They should have stood up to those bastards immediately.

8. I really, really, really want Al Gore to rescue us all.

9. Good night.