Ode to cuteness

I should have brought your book meme to the library with me. I just spent a fruitless hour wandering the racks, looking for a new read. Everything seemed too sad, to serious, too braniac or too dumb.

Even I am over the Bridget Jones-ification of the world. Must every book for young urbane women be a rip on a Jane Austen theme?

Sophie Kinsella - Ack! How many books can a person write about being shopping-compulsive? I find shopping an incredible frikking bore anyways - unless I have a serious Mission - so reading about shopping horrifies me.

Any hoo (that's my e-mail catch-phrase, in case you were wondering) Sparky strikes me as a lovely name for a hamster (hahahahahahaha.. Sparky... strikes.... whatever). I would love a little furry, affectionate, low-maintenance pet.

Insert Eugene joke here.

Actually, one of my co-workers just got a guinea pig and, oh how my heart aches with jealousy! Every day when she gets home there is the WHEET WHEET WHHHHEEEEET-ing and the sweet sniffing nose and the warm little body and sharp little nails.

And the best? She (and her fiancé) named him Robocop.

See the photo of the cute little niblet? He even has a wee bit of lettuce that he's dropped. And you can see how much his owner loves him... she's squeezing him only a little bit.

In other news, my husband succeeded in turning our entire house into a sawdust-covered woodshop this weekend.

Apparently making a quilt rack (for his mom's 60th birthday) entails not only extremely expensive wood products ($100 worth of ebony - straight from Africa! $150 worth of first quality cherry!) and a slew of new tools (stock tip: buy Home Depot! Buy! Buy!) but also gallons and gallons of wood dust. All over my living room and kitchen. Yum.

I still smell like sawdust this morning. Oh, so charming.

On a happier note, I didn't have to throw myself into sub-freezing water at the kayaking festival. Instead, I got to sleep in (despite a woodpecker attacking our roof starting at 7am) and even made hot chocolate - FROM SCRATCH!

We were out of coffee, and I was desperate. Euge had taken the car to Massachussets and New Hampshire, on his exotic wood quest – so I couldn't just pop over to the store.

And may I say? It was delicious.

But not as yummy as a guinea pig.

Darn Blogger!