i keep expecting the cats to get excited about the snow - i mean, they can chase sunlight reflected from the face of my watch for forty-five minutes at a stretch - but they don't see thousands of fluffy white house flies, they see slow rain.

i watched the "we got him" news for twenty, thirty minutes this morning, felt dirty, and flipped over to the closest antidote i could find - at the time, ice skating. i kind of hate ice skating, but it's less bizarre than watching medics comb nits out of saddam hussein's hair.

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