I'm on a vacation simply brought about by the fact that I have vacation time to burn.

...I hope. I headed for bed in the eighth inning.

It's a Big Brother thing. Don't mind me.

My cats don't have many bad habits, but they like scratching two things above all others:

1) Crate & Barrel couch. Got it from a rich cousin.
2) My work pants. Not too expensive, but on the other hand, MY WORK PANTS.

Surly sure can name a beer, even if I'm not sure the hoppy hefe thing is working for me.

Is it the 19th? I think so.

So infuriating.

A female friend from Ireland called me "Spanky-pants." I'm still not sure if this is Ireland-specific or Tara-specific.

I've got my first clopen in a while. I'm writing this at 1 in the morning, so I assume I'll be pretty wrecked for this shift.