We went to Trader Joe's tonight, and I realized that the songs being played over the PA system will be old enough to be elected President of the United States next time.
I never post here anymore. Mostly, it's because I have very little to say, and also because I'm having a hard time typing (better every week, thanks to my wonderful hand therapist). But just to say I aten't dead, and I'm still reading.
A very happy 2013 to all of you. No resolutions for me! No hangover, either, so I've got that going on. I did, however, fall asleep with several Spongebob Squarepants stickers on different parts of my body, courtesy of the Youngest Goddaughter. I don't know what that augurs for the coming months.
My "best books of 2012" post is up at my Booktweeting blog. Couldn't resist adding to the year-end barrage of retrospectives.
I have just returned home from my 30th (!!) high school reunion. Apparently I have not changed, except that I have. Who knew?
There was a game where one classmate read out people's quotations and goals from the yearbook. I apparently had no goals; upon hearing this, I said "ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED" because whatever it is I am supposed to be doing, I guess I am already doing it. Or so my 17-year-old self predicted.
Gentlemen, whenever a person of the female gender is depicted or discussed, do not feel the need to issue an official Boner Report as to whether you would or would not hypothetically have sex with that lady. Nobody cares. You will not receive valuable prizes for assigning every woman who ever lived into the "I'd hit it"/"I wouldn't hit it" category. Unless you think of my contempt and derision as a valuable prize, in which case YOU MAY ALREADY BE A WINNER.
(This brought to you by several dudes who felt the need to tell the Internet that the young Lillian Gish gave them a boner. Apparently, their plan is to build a time machine and go back to 1923 to woo Ms. Gish? They should at least stop to kill you-know-who on the way.)
