Here's what the internet has given me in the past month or so:

1. Paul Westerberg's latest for less than a buck on Amazon.

2. One of my favorite X-Files episodes on iTunes (even though Jesse Ventura is involved)

3. Although people seem all happy to do a cover of Daniel Johnston's "True Love Will Find You in the End" there is no real movement (that I can find) to record covers of songs like "Walking the Cow." Which I find sort of a shame. His earlier Texas Instruments stuff was pretty cool.

In other news: I'm going increasingly grey. My hair has a weird streak in it that hasn't been solved by ripping the hair out.

So I'm going blonde. I've never dyed my hair before in all my 30 years, but fuck that. I'm going platinum.

Which is odd for a girl who has practically black hair, but it's never been any other color. So I reckon blonde might be interesting.

I might just go 90% artificial in my old age.

Ah, Friday. I am about to start working for the evening, but thought I'd pop in here and say hello.

To be fair, I wouldn't have as much work this afternoon if I hadn't gone out to lunch with a friend. A lunch that kind of sucked, food-wise. It's a decent local restaurant that I've always been happy with but today the service was average and my curried egg salad sandwich was more salad, if you take into account the lettuce-to-egg salad ratio.Highly underwhelming. But whatever. We got to sit outside on a beautiful—and very warm—summer day in Mpls.

And as I was enjoying the weather and (less so) my food I noticed another waitperson bringing a meal out to a nearby table. Which wouldn't normally catch my eye except this waitperson, a rather largish gal (which also normally wouldn't catch my eye) was hauling out two plates on one arm.

A feat which I must say I always am amazed by. I'd be dropping shit everywhere if I tried that.

Anyway, the plate nearer to her body had some sort of wrap angled vertically on the plate in just the right way so that with every step she took the food would react accordingly and smack right into her boob. And I'm watching this tragedy in motion, thinking— Well, mainly, "thank god that's not my food."

But also thinking I really hoped the table for which the boobed food was destined hadn't noticed. Because really, how do you send that one back?

One of the downsides of getting picked up by The Reg? Around 4 pm I suddenly started getting gabillions of bounced emails. I always knew I needed to change my contact page to remove the address from easily getting snapped up and used for nefarious purposes but I was too lazy to do anything about it.

Won't make that mistake again.

Well I'll be. I go in to check my stats this afternoon (in the middle of a website build dealie) and what to my procrastinating eyes should appear?

I got linked to from a Register article. As a long time peruser of their site I feel downright honored. A little misty. A little overwhelmed...

And a little peckish. Off to lunch!