here I am, back at the lab, in a fit of nostalgia. The Great Vespa was most benevolent and happily whirring away his ditty about Christmas being over (finally) . . .

I have a stack of books, beautiful books, to work through for a class that starts this month--Dickens, Melville, Emerson, Conrad, Hawthorne, and a host of others are clearing their throats and shuffling their notes, waiting for me and my cappuccino-conducter's-wand to begin the show. woot woot woot! I love new books. They are like drugs. Like . . . *muses for a moment* caffeine! The long wait in the Cave of Registration was totally worth it to find my little mound of djinn-books. major woot!

so, my friends are done spelunking in the Cave of Registration (those that walked with me anyway) and now we are enjoying the Harry-Potter-Christmas-Holiday-ish feeling checking out our new books. J.K. Rowling did quite an excellent job of describing the before-school-anticipation and the post-Christmasness feelings. But, I digress.

I am ready to go hide in the movie theatre and nap during a movie, and then go home and make a pot of tea and cackle over my pile of treasure, because in another two weeks they will be curses and filthy little trashy novels, if I know my mood swing patterns . . .

*hums the 1812 overture*

and--woot!--i get to see a good peppering of my friends today. I am ent-- . . . Some beanified punk acoupla computers down keeps yabbering on about neutering people with toenails. Does he mean toenails as a tool or toenails as a criterion? Nevermind: I don't wanna know. *blinks intelligently and returns to more cheerful subjects* . . . What was I going to say? It's gone now. Drat him and his be-plaid-ed companion.

*mumblegrumblefrickamutterchuckle*

now, to surf the blogs until People get off for lunch hour . . . I'm so glad to be back.