I was listening to a CD of children's songs by Woody Guthrie (he makes great car noises, by the way), when it struck me that he sounds an awful lot like Lou Reed.
I've been reading Why Buffy Matters, by Rhonda Wilcox. As you know, I am a super-duper Buffy/Angel fan (to be more precise, a super-duper Whedon fan), but some of the scholarly writings about the show have made me appreciate it so much more. If you've ever needed to be convinced that Buffy can be studied and dissected like a Russion novel or a John Donne poem, then this book is for you. While it wasn't quite as much fun as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy, or Fighting the Forces, this is still a really enjoyable book if you're a fan.
I am way tired. I think I'm more tired now than I was when I was feeding a newborn two-hourly through the night. I think it's because I no longer have time during the day to make it up. Or else it's because I've aged since then.
Family Guy is one of my favourite TV shows at the moment. It's not only funny and wierd; it's also pretty damned shocking. And it airs at 7pm, well before most impressionable young children's bedtimes.
Baby and I have our passports in our hot little hands. All that remains to be done is for the boy to fork out the dosh and book us all a holiday.
I've started putting Baby in a dress - nothing frilly; just a red fleece tunic - and she looks even more adorable than when I was dressing her in boys' clothes. People keep coming up to us and making coochy-coo noises. At her, not me.
Did you know that rats can't vomit? According to a book I'm reading, How to kill your spouse the natural way, they can't.
It's now 9.48pm and way past my bedtime. Goodnight.