And now, an update on our intrepid heroine:

Absolutely nothing is happening right now. Nothing of interest, that is. I'm fairly sure you don't want to hear about my current bout of insomnia or the fact that one of my cats needs to figure out how to clean her butt PDQ or I'm throwing her in the tub to provide her with explicit directions.

I did just finish reading Captain Alatriste by Arturo Perez-Reverte (and isn't Viggo doing a movie of this book?). I rather love this author, and I did enjoy the book, which I sucked down in about a day. It is a very tapas-like book, actually, being short and tasty and a nice little bite of Spain, but not enough to really fill you up. I'm also still working my way through The Historian, which has hit a severe patch of slowdownitis around page 420 or thereabouts.

Have you ever discovered that earlier in the day, you engaged in something which you now recognize as a strange little bit of maliciousness, as if you were temporarily posessed by Loki, and yet at the time you didn't exactly realize what you were doing despite the fact that it's clear as hell in retrospect that it was not a good thing to do and now you're kind of kicking yourself for it even though it's not actually worth all that much time spent angsting about it? Me too.

Tonight, Amazing Race and then bed.