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2004-12-03 - 4:35 p.m.

This week has been much better than the last few--I only felt like ripping my own head off and devouring it whole (a feat which I am aware is anatomically impossible on several levels) about half the time I was at work. Soon we shall be getting new computers (joy!) with flat-panel monitors (joy!) and NEW PRINTERS (double-plus joy!). I wonder if they will allow me to lovingly cart my old printer home and beat it to fucking death with a blunt object, a la Office Space. I try to share the love, brothers and sisters.

Meanwhile and again, I am so desperately in love with my TiVo that R might start to worry were he not also infatuated. TiVo is my new little electronic god, which allows me to watch mind-boggling amounts of Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis, my two main television obsessions. We also get to indulge even further in the Richard Dean Anderson love by watching episode after episode of MacGyver. Can anyone clear up for me why Mac hated guns but was willing to build a bomb at the slightest come-hither glance from a roll of duct tape? I mean, I know he hates guns because he accidently shot his friend when he was a child, but don't aren't bombs a hell of a lot more likely to kill an innocent civillian? And it truly was his answer to any situation. Kidnapped by terrorists? Build a bomb. Trapped by crazy computers? Build a bomb. Accepted a dinner invitation and later realized he had other plans? Build a bomb!! Alas and oh well. When I was a child and watched MacGyver pre-syndication, I used to harbor a secret crush on Wimp Man, as he was so smart and dreamy. But looking back, I can see how mislead I was. Our very dear Mr. Anderson sported a most egregious mullet throughout much of the show's run. I cannot conceive of a more unfortunate hairstyle than the mullet. The only man who should wear a mullet is Steve Irwin, Croc Hunter!

It's starting to get really damn cold in DC, and I am waiting with bated breath for the first snowfall. We've been lighting fires (in our fireplace) every night, and I cannot begin to express the happiness I feel when I'm sitting on the couch in between the husband and the cat, drinking some 15-year-old port, watching Stargate and staring into the fire. If I could freeze life right there, I would. Add in some Austen or Dante, or both, and life is sheer perfection. This weekend we shall re-organize our pantry, do some general cleaning, and deal with some holiday stuff. I'd like to get some decorations out and up, get the cards written and sent, and order all the gifts. Next week I have rehearsals or concerts every night save Tuesday, so I know that's going to be a bust. Then we'll only have one week before we leave for California, and I'm sure I'll be running around like mad that week. I already have a book club meeting at my house for which I must prepare--although I believe preparations shall be mostly along the lines of purchasing frozen hors d'oeuvres and throwing them in the oven and hopefully (hopefully!) removing them before they burn past all recognition.

For book club (I feel like such a Lady who Lunches writing that) we read Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys, a short novella that I highly highly reccomend. It is a revisioning of story of Mr. Rochester's (he of Jane Eyre) first wife. It is replete with subtext about post-colonialism and race relations and people having illicit sex. I haven't read Jane Eyre years and years, so I'd like to go back before the meeting and reread to see how Bronte paints Rochester. I think I was firmly in my salad days last time I read it, and he may come off quite differently now that I am a married lady.

I also read Mirror, Mirror by Gregory MacGuire, and loved it. The book definitely requires a second read; he really packs in the layers. His books are deeply complex, and touch on ideas far beyond the original fairy tales. Unfortunately, MacGuire did not come up with a pleasing explanation for why "Prince Charming's" kiss awoke Bianca de Nevada (Snow White, geddit, geddit?). I had been looking forward to this, as he dealt so beautiful with other aspects of the tale, the apple in particular. But he completely glossed over that fateful kiss, and it disappointed me.


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