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“Just repeat to yourself it’s just a show, I should really just relax…”

I’m trying not to let it bother me that I haven’t seen an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in more than two months, or that I’ll have to wait until next week to see the two-hour season finale. I recognize how geeky I sound when I let on that things like that bother me.

Kelly Link, a wonderful writer (and one of Neil Gaiman’s favorites), is apparently on tour, promoting her equally wonderful short story collection Stranger Things Happen. In her travel diary, she writes:

We get to Chicago just as my friends Lynne and Tom Casey are leaving for an appointment with her obstetrician. I get to see ultrasound pictures. The blurry, watery, vaguely military look of ultrasounds always makes me feel as if the pictures were taken down in a submarine, off the coast of Iceland, by a lab technician nervously scanning the radar equipment for Russians or aliens or babies — Look! It’s dancing!

And in other news, Neil Gaiman’s weblog really needs permalinks.

“He who controls the Spice, controls the universe.”

I, or rather my boss, just received a piece of junk mail from a web hosting company. Included was a silver package of “Basic Barbecue Blend” from the (apparently fictitious) Southwest Spice Company. Who are the ad geniuses who dreamed that one up?