It�s so much fun to look at what other people on KaZaa (no, I don�t use the normal version; I have the Spyware free edition) have on their hard drives, just as individuals. I�m always hoping to find something really sinister and dirty, but all I found was one person who really likes Asian porn and another who liked girly music and had one porn file. I wasn�t nearly as titillated as I would have liked to be. I am such the closet voyeur. I have no interest in downloading the porn of another; I have enough stashed in my brain to last me forever and I have no need to see any of the stuff that others would have to offer. I gave porn a try for a while a few years ago, but it just wasn�t for me. It made me feel uncomfortable and everything looked too wrong. There is no comparison to actual sex. You can tell they are two people trying to get paid and passion is nonexistent. I�ve seen amateur stuff, too, but all they�re doing is mugging for the camera, clearly not at all mentally involved in what is happening with their bodies.

I went to bed early last night. I was fully intending to have some sex and stay up long enough to watch all of Conan, but when the tail end of Dave rolled around and I was feeling beyond lethargic, I decided that sex and Conan just weren�t in the cards for me.

So far today I have managed to take care of beginning dinner by washing the game hen, pulling out the gut sack, and making the brine, which happens to be chilling in the refrigerator as I type. I also had to do some dish reconnaissance because Luke tends to stash his snack dishes away in the bedroom. Normally, this is okay, but we have to eat off of plates tonight and he had three of four plates on his nightstand, so I had to wash those.

M and C leave for their quick jaunt to NYC tomorrow. They�ll be gone for four days and I�m still wildly green with envy. I don�t even care about the stupid New York part; I just want to go home, even if it is only for four days.

This is a decidedly incoherent entry thus far. I think my mind is just bouncing around a lot.

I had a strange dream this morning after Luke had left for work. There was some sort of party going on, presumably involving my family, even though I recognized no one as my real life kin. One of these �family� members was more than a little sinister and I ended up having to kick his ass several times. I don�t know what brings on such violent dreams, but it seems as though when they happen there is a strange, almost blood-like taste in my mouth. When I wake up, I can tell that I haven�t been bleeding, so I wonder where the taste comes from. It�s almost like memory for me; my memories from different stages in my life have different �smells�. It�s not something that is hanging in the air around my current person, but something that�s there in whatever life-era I am remembering. I wonder how my memories from this time will smell 10 or 15 years from now?

Tuesday evenings, before Luke gets home from work, I am left to my own devices and by the time 7 o�clock (prime time, here in CDT) rolls around I am often left with nothing else to do chore wise, so I end up looking for something to watch as dinner cooks. A couple of weeks ago, nothing was on except for Gilmore Girls, so I watched it. I was immediately sucked in and wanted to watch it last week, but WB wasn�t coming in. Last night, I discovered that the secret to WB reception was to move the TV a couple of inches to the right and I was able to watch to my heart�s content, even though Luke saw fit to change the station on me when I went to the kitchen for a quick second. I hollered at him and that seemed to do the trick. I have also found myself irretrievably sucked into The O.C. I watched it last week when it debuted and Luke made fun of me the entire time. With Gilmore Girls and The O.C., I now have to make a decision between them, as once the actual season gets into full swing they�ll both be on at the same time on the same night. Dilemma, dilemma.