Although I strongly feel the word "random" is extremely overused in most weblog contexts, I am forced to admit that it's the best word to describe this here entry

I’ve felt too scatterbrained to update lately, but I don’t want to just leave that last entry up and continue giving you all the impression that I’m dwelling in some kind of hormonal never-never-land. I am now fully in the present, both with my Estrostep and, well, this site. And I am drinking Three Buck Chuck to wind down after a busy weekend of cooking, cleaning, and also, dodging huge wet blobs of snow. No, really: on Friday night a whole bunch of lovely wet snow descended and stuck to trees, lightposts, overpasses, etc., only to start falling spectacularly in big clumps on streets, cars, children, etc., as soon as the temperature rose Saturday morning. Chris and I ran errands on Saturday and got to see the transition from “Winter Wonderland” to “Slush Apocalypse” firsthand, as massive snow loogies fell all around us and other hapless pedestrians. We thought we’d be safe in the car until we reached a stop sign and dislodged a massive glacier on the roof of my car, which coursed down my windshield in much the way I imagine the melting polar ice caps are going to smear all over Canada and Siberia one day.

Someone emailed me to say they’re doing a research paper on blogs and they “need some research.” And my business address. And… that’s all they said. Could you, er, be a little more specific, Researcher Person? Or maybe you are studying my response to your very vague research request, the sending of which is part of the research process in itself? I don’t mind answering a few questions (well, maybe three), as long as one of them isn’t “What is blogging?” because, dude, we answered that already.

Also, in the past twelve hours or so I have been heralded, via email, as Starbucks Customer #469744876, Target Customer #787288174FGY, Walmart Valued Customer #70718516, Ebay Customer-836A1-836, and JCPenney Customer #975R-VBEC40. It’s true that at one time or another I have either set foot in or clicked upon all these establishments, but if I were to believe that each one dutifullly assigned me a number based on a few instances of buying coffee or Diet Coke or whatever the hell, then by extension I would also have to believe that I am walking around with a subcutaneous microchip somewhere on my person, or else a fiber optic transmitter bio-implant, or even one of those good old-fashioned Mark of The Beast UPC codes. And I’d be able to go up to ATMs and just blink at them to get money. So why would I need your silly gift cards, Starbucks and Target and Walmart?

(When I start thinking like this, it’s time for bed.)