I Am Probably Too Tired To Be Blogging, Suckers

It has been one of those weeks. Enough interesting things have happened, but when I sit here in front on my blog, I don't really want to speak about any of it. This happens quite a lot. I'm not sure if I don't think it's interesting enough or if I have a sudden need to keep things to myself in that way that I tell everyone else but don't want it in a blog. Blahhhhhg.

Let's see. How about I summarize then? And go off on occasional wild tangents.

Last weekend, I was semi-stranded in smaller-town Ohio than where I ordinarily reside. It was a pleasant enough day except that I usually get a headache when I am in the sun for more than 45 minutes, because I manage to squint a lot. Since natural light seems so much brighter than a monitor in a darkened room. Pff. My boyfriend and I walked for miles and in a desperate attempt to pass some time, we ate at some little tiny dive in the center of town called Grandma's Pizza, where I had a gyro to the tune of that outrageously horrid song about ain't no bein' no hollaback girl, which is the worst song I have ever heard in my life. And it made my gyro almost lose flavor. They shouldn't play Top 40 Radio Stations in eateries. It sickens me everytime.

Later in the week, Jeremy traumatized me with the Shaye Saint John website, and I almost couldn't sleep that night because I kept having horrifying visions of lifesized mutilated dolls coming down the hallway at me in the dark. I also had day-visions of a similar nature. What terror. I heard that XV has emailed this Shaye and I definitely hope that it befriends us.

Also this week, my newest ferret, Sweetpea, had a panic attack of epic proportions while outdoors with me, and I was bitten soundly on my hand. I only bled a little. But I can now say with authority that ferretbites are definitely different than ratbites. A ferretbite is like having been hit with a hammer with four tiny spikes on it, whereas the ratbite is like being shivved with a tiny razor. One bruises and aches, and the other one bleeds like there is no tomorrow and swells massively. I can't decide which I'd rather have. My hand is still all bruised and scabby. But it wasn't as bad as I expected when I picked her up while she was flailing and screeching like that.

Jeremy told me a story that I want to make into a comic.

Actually, Jeremy is STILL scaring me with Shaye St. John pictures. Days later. He just now showed me an image I wasn't expecting and I think my soul actually hurt in fright.

I think maybe a few other things of not-much-importance happened, but I am ridiculously tired right now so I think I will just stop trying to compose sentences.