Ooh, Ebert’s finally launching his own site! It’ll be finished later this month and apparently I’ll finally be able to read every review the man’s ever written. Kick. Ass.

Trilobite cookies. How cool is that? Cookies that look like fossils!

The most hated men in rock discussion is pretty fun. Now how ’bout the ladies? I nominate Fiona Apple right off the bat…

I feel a niggling sense of guilt over my lack of posting these days. It’s just so hard when I’m not sitting in front of a computer all day long. As much as it pains me to say it… The Internet is not a priority anymore. *gasp* I know, I know. Actually, I have a whole list of things that are more important right now:

• Finishing my sister’s wedding gift. (Seriously, you guys. It’ll never be done in time.)
• Dealing with drama at work.
• Playing with the cat.
• Not going to the gym.
• Watching Neighbours and The O.C.
• Planning our trip to the States in November.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I plan to return to my posting days of yore soon, I promise.

Uh-oh Brigita… Somebody’s calling out your boyfriend Sting as the most hated man in rock. Them’s fightin’ words! (For the record, I think Fred Durst should be a lot higher on that list.)

Who’s a damn pincushion? I am. I got stuck with needles three times today! First I had to go to a “haematology” specialist in yet another (probably) vain attempt to find out what’s behind my raised ferritin levels. The real danger is hemachromatosis, but the doctor thinks it’s unlikely I have it since I don’t have a corresponding raised saturation of iron. He wanted to rule it out though, so he scheduled a bunch of tests. They had to take seven vials of blood! I had to get a bunch filled from one arm, then come back fifteen minutes later to do the other! (And that butcher of a nurse took, like, four tries to hit veins on both arms.) Then in the afternoon I headed off for my first round of allergy desensitisation therapy. The doctor injected me (on the back of the arm this time) with a tiny amount of the stuff I’m allergic to. Then I had to sit in the waiting room for half an hour to make sure I didn’t go into anaphylactic shock. Fun. As I SMSed to the Snook afterwards, “He didn’t have to inject steroids into my heart, so I guess that was a success.” Now I just have to do that, oh, every week for the next three years. Would’ve been cheaper to just buy stock in Zyrtec, I guess.

I’m absolutely ecstatic to report that at long last, we have partial TiVo-isation of our household. The Snook has managed to get MythTV up and running with a downloaded Australian program guide. We don’t have enough processing power at the moment to play and record at the same time but the mere scheduling of recordings is enough to satisfy me for the present. Within five minutes we had it set up to record every episode of The O.C., Dead Ringers, and Iron Chef. The first actual program we recorded? This one. (It wasn’t porn! It was a fascinating medical documentary, I swear!)

You know what scares cats? Hail. Man, we’ve had, like, four storms pass through in the past 24 hours. I’ve never experienced thunderstorms in cool weather before.

Go the Swannies!
I attended my first Aussie Rules Football match tonight! Snookums and I headed out with our friend Smithers to Telstra Olympic Stadium to watch the Sydney Swans demolish the West Coast Eagles. I know very little about Aussie Rules, but thankfully it doesn’t seem to have as many crazy obscure infractions as rugby. Basically it’s just a bunch of really tall fit guys in short shorts jumping and kicking and running for two hours. That’s a sport I can get behind! (Plus I already knew the Swannies’ fight song, so I figured what the heck. It’s the closest I’ll get to a Notre Dame game this year.) We drank beer and ate hot dogs and tried to start the wave and cheered on Bazza and the lads… and later we huddled in the concourse trying to keep warm as the freezing cold rain poured down. Unfortunately my camera batteries died so I couldn’t get any pictures of our bedraggled selves until I got home. It was pretty fun though… Next week we take on St. Kilda! Go the Swannies!

JK Rowling has offered up a peek at two sentences from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Any guesses who they’re talking about? My wild guess is that it’s one of Harry’s grandfathers (probably the wizarding one, as I doubt it’d be Marge’s Dad).