If you set off a firecracker in a styrofoam bowl of shaving cream, it won't do much except blow a small smoky hole in the shaving cream. If you leave a styrofoam bowl of shaving cream outside in freezing weather for three days, it will not change at all, and in fact it won't freeze, melt or even, get this, feel cold to the touch. Conclusion: shaving cream is some weird ass shit.
M is better, but I feel creepy. I'm not throwing up or anything; I just feel creepy, like faintly dizzy, faintly nauseated, faintly tired, faintly sleepy. It's possible that this is my normal state - I can never remember - or maybe instead of getting the full on stomach bug I'll just creep around for days feeling mysteriously icky. Blah. However, today is a momentous day. Today I bit the bullet & bought Windows XP, so as soon as I back up everything currently on this computer onto CD, I will be installing. Hopefully I'll see you again, she said portentously. I'm also going to try to install some more RAM and I have NO clue how to do that.
In other news, Barbieri's death has created a power vacuum among the neighborhood cats, and watching them maneuver around the yard is interesting. Mr. Bill is just too paranoid/schizophrenic to be a major player, so it's between the big orange cat who lives I think down the street and my next door neighbors tortoiseshell. I like both these cats, but my money's on the orange one, who used to lie in my front yard and yowl back and forth with Barbieri. He's tough. Well, he's tough until you approach him, at which point he wants to be cuddled. Mr. Bill watches all this with horror and incomprehension; he's as terrified of other cats as he is of most things, including us. A has pointed out that this year has been a terrible one for pets around our household, and the survivors are both neurotic. That may be why: after all, a little healthy paranoia can be a smart and helpful trait.