So, what do you think the Friend...ster protocol is for when a former professor messages you? I got a message via the addiction last night from one of my committee members from my thesis. This sort of makes sense, because I can see him being fascinated by it in a Baudrillardian (yes, I know that's not a word) way. You know, simulation, simulacra, etc. Still, I'm a little skeeved that he did a search on me. And now he's seen the 8 million testimonials that explain what a drunk I am. Yikes. Do I make him my friendster?

Walker, our beloved chocolate-chip cat, lost his last fang on Saturday. The poor kitty tries to bite us, and now it's just completely futile. At least he still has his molars, so he can scarf down food and treats.

Watching Arrested Development on Sunday made me realize that 20 years later, I still kinda have a crush on Jason Bateman. I loved him as that smarmy asshole Derek on Silver Spoons. And don't get me started on It's Your Move. That means in some alternate pop-culture fan dork universe, Amishboy and I could be in-laws, given his love of Justine.

So, that, right now, is where my brain is. Apologies for the randomness.