I think I lack the mental capacity to understand the humor in Monty Python. Last time I was at "geek camp" (mock horror), there was a sign-up sheet to watch a video of the mentioned show in the basement of the campus. I signed up, no biggie. (Have you noticed how whenever a blogger says "no biggie" or "not sweating the hot stuff" -- well, geniuses, hot stuff is the stuff that makes you feel stuffy and sweaty -- there's always something "dramatic" coming up?

Also...looking back, I think the correct phrase is "not sweating the small stuff," but who's going to judge?)


The vending machine spit out a package of Skittles and I ran up three flights up stairs to retrieve my jar of sugary peanuts...the night was good even before the film started. And then the movie started.

With the exception of two chic girls merrily laughing, the rest of us in the room were not amused by the bobbing plastic horses, medieval sets, or the various, unnatural accents. We considered it an evening wasted. Smiles unused, we reluctantly turned off the TV. The lights went out in the corridors upstairs (a cue that we had come to know as bedtime) and that was that.

     "Swine," she said. "Downstairs."
    He touched her knee and slipped off her glasses. "Expected. Booze does that to most people."
    "Whatever. Where are you?...Damned attic light bulb."
    "Yeah."
    "Give me back my damn glasses." Amelia sharply looked around, seeing nothing, whisked the air between she and the thief. "James, give them back! You know I don't own contacts."
    He deadpanned. "You don't need them in the dark." Her hands stumbled in the chill around her, searching for her glasses. "I can't take my history test blind..."
    James pushed them up his nose. "I need them. Love makes me blind, Amelia, blind!"