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To begin, Reunions!!!!. Y'all are done with Remix, revel in some reunions:)

Taxes continue to be a plague upon my soul. Someone as much in favor of a society paying for itself should no be so bloody confounded by the system in which that occurs. TurboTax, savior of my sanity for the past two years, is suddenly 800 TIMES more confusing than taxation on its own. My business makes me very little money compared to what I spend running said business. (And because we're lazy, my primary client didn't give me a 1099. Yet I want to report my income, except for the fact that there's no place to do so and an audit would make my insane. Let me repeat, I want to write down on a government form that people gave me money and yes please tax me on this money and yet there is no clear opportunity to do so, even though I could take a deduction for my friggin vehicle registration.)

Y'all made me cry as well, for your responses to this post. I really love you guys.

I have yet to rewatch The Quest, Pt. II, in part because I'm in seasonal giddy Farscape mode and SG-1 doesn't quite fit the bill. That being said, I do remember enjoying this ep thoroughly. It's well-paced, engaging, and features solid, affecting performances. And hee. Darryl. I should watch it so I can get re-energized on CROSSOVER of EVOL and finish that. (The concept is not evil, but the delay in finishing is starting to piss me off).

I am pretty sure that the miniseries of The Stand is a travesty. Actually, I know it is. And yet, I feel strongly that the book could make a fantastic movie. But that? Is not a good predictor of such.

For those keeping score at home, it's Brutus the Eel- 5, Fishy Friends and Food - 1.

And finally, I acquired (by virtue of my Discover card and the dude at the Apple store) a new battery for the iBook. Life is much better today than it was yesterday when I couldn't unplug the laptop even to move it. Inspired by my joy, the cat decided the powercord was a toy. The screech of OMG Get the Fuck AWAY was heard round the world.
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One of the guys in my office has a saltwater tank that contains a moray eel, and a dwindling number of pretty fish.

The eel is a refugee due to his own behavior. (He lived in a bigger, happier tank, but kept picking fights with the bigger, tougher eel and getting his metaphorical eel ass kicked, so he had to come live in cube world).

I've spent part of the week mildly terrified that the eel will escape (the eel's owner says that former eels have, but Brutus seems pretty content to gape at the fish and the people), and the other half unable to stop myself from going into to stare at him as he gapes at his colorful little swimmy snacks.

This morning, half the pretty fish were gone, and the rest of them are swimming around and hiding, and I can just hear them saying to each other, "Dont' get off the boat, man. Never get off the boat!"

I know I have little to fear from Brutus the eel, because as M. said to me last night, I'm more likely to get eaten by our cats than by eels. Still, I maintain a healthy respect for Brutus and hope you enjoyed his snacks. Because for Brutus, I think fish are food not friends.

And this foray into randomland is brought to you by the fact that I desperately need to be distracted.

ETA: Tuesday was [livejournal.com profile] crankygrrl's birthday. Please go harrass her mercilessly, both for the birthday and for MAKING ME FEEL GUILTY:)

But seriously, Kath is my anchor, she's been editor, captain and friend to me and on a regular basis, I think it's safe to say I'd be lost without her. I love you, babe, and I wish you the best for this coming year. May it be filled with wolfies and wonder.

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January 2016

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