The week after visiting friends is always a little weird--one never wants to leave wonderful people, and Life Awaits back home, with irritatingly small and boring things to do. All I really want is to play in the snow and read.
We did manage a lovely dinner last night, though, yummy chicken breasts covered in pecans and stuffed with gouda and sour cherries, pomegranate liqueur from glasses I made, and string beans with pancetta modeled on what D & D fed us over the weekend. I hereby declare pancetta to be the best thing ever. justbeast then read to me a bit from Godel, Escher, Bach before bed. Such a sweet and quiet evening. Mmmm. Need more of those.
I have decided that I, like a bad little alien, need more Human Contact. My general live-and-in-person homo sapiens input is pretty much justbeast, theferrett, and zoethe, with and that's not quite enough to keep me socialized and my violet-spotted proboscis in check. It's funny how you can lose the habit of contact when you spend enough time depressed and turned in on yourself.
But it's spring, despite the two feet of snow on the ground, and that means new things. Leaves and birds and such. Can't be a bad thing.
There's also a new My Name Is Might Have Been up. Yes, it's a comic about Rock Band. No, it's not just about Rock Band. Yes, we are crazy and dork-tastic.