Pie. Mom, if you’re reading this, click: Pecan Pie.

Job. No job. PS. It went to an internal candidate. Also, the guy confirms: It wasn’t the writing or the professionalism. The other candidate had more internal departmental experience. Sigh.

Strange Moose. We watched Brother Bear today. That is Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas. Doug McKenzie: I am your father, Luke. Give in to the dark side of the force, you knob. Bob McKenzie: He saw Jedi 17 times, eh.

Easter. We did the plastic egg/sticker version of decorating Easter eggs. Why? Less mess. Ironically, Ray got ahold of a permanent marker I’d been using and colored on the floor. On the other hand, there are still no worries about missing eggs going bad. I think I’m going to make devilied eggs, anyway. Lee helped

Daddy has a tail.

Rrg. Sethra Lavode is out. And I don’t have it.

News. The QC position did not pan out. The tech writer position is still up in the air. Still. Update 04/08/04 And I mean STILL.

Chocolate. Ever have one of those moments when you have one last piece of chocolate on your desk that you’ve been saving? You walk away for a moment and come back: and it’s gone. You lick your lips and taste chocolate, so you know it was you that ate it, but you don’t remember having

Introspection. One of my favorite poems is “The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock” by TS Eliot. It’s about getting older and despair, but it’s done in such a witty way that you have problems believing that it could be all that bad. I feel like I’m starting to sound like Prufrock, not in detail

Books. Okay. After putting it off for a few years, I’ve finally started reading Dorothy Sayers. Maybe true bibliophiles will scoff at this, but reading her stuff gives me the pleasure of reading Sherlock Holmes combined with Jane Austin. Funny. Sayer’s biography sounds similar to Doyle’s in a few spots. Wrote things, didn’t become famous