There is so much I would like to write about: My father's visit, my feelings about the torture of Iraqi prisoners and the guards who had never been taught the Geneva Convention, about my fears and desires surrounding Karaoke. Also, about the mysteries of the composter in the backyard.
But strangely, I have little time to expound on life and the mysteries therein, esp. given this whole *job* thing.
I hear Van Helsing sucked. Is that true? cuz I really like monster movies, but lately I have found that they neglect storyline in favour of FX.