All those spiders. It makes you think.

Yay! It�s add-an-entry time! Hurrah! You know, I just love sitting down at the computer, the white box in front of me, all pristine and blank, something like my mind when I am suddenly faced with all that vast emptiness and I know that I should really have something more interesting to write about than what I had for breakfast, how frikking cold it is again, and complain about things I cannot change (like the weather). But, since I have made this a habit of sorts, and feel that it imposes some sense of structure in my life (and the gourd knows I need it), you lucky people out there get yet another day in the life of Elgan to read (or not) about. Go me.

Actually, I do have some news. Last night, for the very first time, I won a game of spider solitaire with four suits. This is no easy feat, my friends. I do believe I deserve some kudos on this accomplishment. If you think about all the hours I sit in front of the computer (several computers, actually, if we�re going to count the two at home and the one in my office at the university) playing spider solitaire, hours that I will never have back again in my quickly waning life, then I really do deserve some form of recognition, since there is nothing at all that I have actually accomplished, except for killing time.

I also finished the book I was reading, an excellent book which I recommend highly, American G0ds by NeiI Gaiman, a novel which professes the existence of the gods of the immigrants to this continent, brought over in their hearts and kept alive by tradition and worship, then slowly forgotten and trying to eke out an existence in some way, either as grifters, taxi drivers, convenience store clerks, and prostitutes. It was really interesting in that sense, as well as being a very good read.

Having finally crawled into bed past midnight, I slept fitfully and woke before my alarm (why, oh why does that happen?), realizing that I had not done my Latin homework due for today (I�ll be handing in the verb synopses on Wednesday I guess). I completed that over breakfast (which was cereal with milk, in case you really wanted to know), but when I arrived in class, it turned out that all but one had forgotten to print out the Ovid off the internet that we had been assigned. So Patsy photocopied the first page of the Echo and Narcissus story from the Metamorphoses for us, and we started translating it.

The rest of my day unfolded as it usually does (teaching, belly dancing). Hubby and Buddy Boy called again from Florida to say that it was quite chilly (near the freezing mark, in fact), and my mom called because her bread machine produced another failure, and I advised her that she should call the help line provided and tell them her tales of woe as I am not in a position to do anything for her. She asked me what she should do in the meanwhile about bread, and I answered, �Buy it? Go back to making it the old fashioned way without a machine?� Really. When did I become the advice giver in this relationship?

Well, it would appear that the nice white box is no longer empty anymore. I guess that means I can go now. Bye!

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