Kitties! Check out the kittencam at the BBC.

DMV/IA. My experiences with the Iowa DMV, trying to clear an error off Lee’s driving record, were, to say the least, unpleasant. Call one: Me: The insurance co. would like a letter of clearance… IA: We haven’t sent out letters of clearance for five years. Me: Is there anything you can do to help me?

So what do you believe in? Depends on what frame of reference you’re using. What do you call someone who believe that what she believes depends on the frame of reference used? I’m trying to think of a word, but…I can’t narrow it down to just one word. I’m a post-modern pluralistic magician (not pagan)

Organization. I had an aha! about organization today. The key to organization for people like me is the necessity to regularly reasses the actual facts against the intended/expected situation. This means, too, you have to think out what the intended situation will be, which is another weak point I have. Of course, this little realization

Joe. I’ve been cooking a lot lately (I made a post-Thanksgiving Turkey Day dinner, with all the trimmings, I mean, we’re talking homemade stuffing, here), so Joe cooked tonight, steak, spicy tatoes, onions, and shrooms, corn on the cob, bread, cheese, cheesecake. It was good. Fine. Up the ante, mofo.

Story. I have this face. It attracts stories. I work with a woman who met Maya Angelou. She was an English major in college, in North Carolina. She wrote a self-described “cheesy” novella about a girl with a fatal illness, a girl who’d been cooped up all her life and never really lived until she

Ray is patiently breaking pine needles (the long kind) into small pieces and lining them up on the chair cushion.

Godfadda. I feel like walking around and talking like the Godfather today. “You eat my tacos and den you decide to inconvenience me and my daughter after I’m in bed. Dis is the respect you give me.”

Car. Transportation problems with the pickup truck yet, and the financing hasn’t gone through the bank yet. No car yet.

Bebe Notes. This is kinda icky, but there you go. Her bowels have made some kind of quantum jump in maturity. All of a sudden, she has poops that in no way resemble mustard. Ah, the holidays. My thoughts turn to gift-giving, good food, and TOILET TRAINING.