Well then! I’m back from the wilds of the Montana, and I’m sorry to report that there wasn’t any snow. At least it wasn’t excruciatingly cold—only in the teens and twenties. It was a lovely trip and I got plenty of much-needed rest.

Getting out of town, however, was less than simple. After a lengthy and bloody battle, I admitted defeat and decided Phoebe would stay home rather than be boarded with Max. I managed to screw up the pillowcase trick the first time, and after that it was really over. With twelve minutes remaining until the pet resort closed for the night, I finally gave up, crammed a very scared and desolate Max into his carrier and took off. In our struggles, Phoebe had managed to dig her back feet into the palms of both my hands leaving clusters of deep punctures that were actively bleeding stigmata-like as I drove to drop off Max. Needless to say, upon seeing my hands the folks at Rover Oaks were rather pleased to hear that Phoebe wasn’t coming. Thankfully, a kind friend at work was willing to stop by and check in on her during the week. Though she didn’t destroy the apartment and seems to be in fine shape, she’s vehemently angry with both Max and me. Max, contrary to my fears, had a fabulous time and doesn’t seem worse for the wear at all. Apparently, he loved the attention and made several new friends. $140 later, everyone comes out okay.

My car accident saga continues, as will be further detailed in the List. Other than dealing with that, general boredom at work, tornadic activity to the north, and the looming threat of being killed in my sleep by an angry calico, things are swell and it’s good to be back. I love going home, but there’s such a sense of life-suspended while I’m there that I kind of like coming back to my routine, even though I don’t like my routine at the moment. Oh, and I finally decided on a topic for my book. It’s going to be great, but the research will take a while, so no further details at this time. Stay tuned…

Anyway, here’s this week’s list.

Things I Like

• The Cosby Show. God Bless Nickelodeon for airing old episodes all the damn time. This weekend, they had two marathons of classic episodes…I was in heaven. I think part of the draw for me is that their family is so much more fun than mine. Well, I guess my family is fun if you’re an outsider and are watching the circus-like spectacle unfold before you. Being trapped there by blood, however, makes it difficult to see the fun in the millionth semi-drunk karaoke exhibition. What can I say, I’m a square peg in a family of round holes. Anyway, I dig the Huxtables. I went through a phase as a child when I thought they might adopt me if I wrote in to the show. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind that I was white, and it seemed like the house had endless bedrooms.

• Sleep. And man, could I ever use some right now.

• Big ideas. I am soooo excited about my book. It’s really one of the best ideas I’ve ever had and I actually have a plan to see it through to completion. Though I have no idea what the final form will look like, the research process is going to be pretty freaking amazing.

• Cute children. I have to admit, I saw a bevy of adorable and relatively well-behaved children while traveling to and from the great MT. I definitely went through a ‘kids are scary’ phase, but I think it’s over now. Though ill-behaved children (especially of the shrieking variety) still drive me up the wall, the rest of them are great and I honestly wish I saw more of them.

• Nigella Lawson. I love the way this woman cooks, almost as much as I love the way she writes about cooking. If you aren’t familiar with her, she’s a British chef whose television show recently started airing in the US. She has written two cookbooks, one of which I own, and she’s just an overall great addition to the cooking tableau. Her show is pretty cool, although it freaks me out a little when she licks her fingers and keeps cooking. I totally do that in my own kitchen, but never when other people are definitely going to eat the food. If other palates are involved, I wash hands often, use spoons once, the whole enchilada. I’d like it if she made at least a pretense towards believing in such standards for guests.

• Norah Jones. If you haven’t heard her cd yet, go buy it. Don’t borrow it from a friend, unless you were planning to end the friendship anyway and tend not to feel guilt. You will love it, I promise.

Things I Don’t Like

• Enterprise Car Rental. The only good thing about these jackasses is that they do direct billing with State Farm. This would be the only reason I am still doing business with them, because they clearly don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. Not only did they put me in an entirely unclean car this weekend, I have been jerked around by more people from their various Houston offices than one would think reasonably possible. Watch your back with this group—they’ll screw you up at every turn if you aren’t preternaturally careful (and even then, it won’t be easy). I’m greatly looking forward to turning this Mercury-piece-of-crap back in, digging up the name of the regional manager, and writing a seething letter of disgust. Heh.

• Severe weather. There’s “tornadic activity” headed our way at the moment, and that doesn’t warm my heart. I swear, around here if it’s not floods or hurricanes it’s tornadoes or mosquitoes with West Nile. Why, why, why does anyone live here?

• Christmas trees after Christmas. Is there anything more depressing? I don’t mean little-Disney-ragamuffins-singing-Britishly depressing, I mean gained-another-dress-size-worth depressing. Muddy-dog-with-the-homeless-vet depressing. Grandparents-forget-your-birthday depressing. Yeesh.

• Overpowering perfume/cologne. This may affect me more than some, as I have an extremely sensitive sense of smell. Honestly, when applying any form of personal scent, I think everyone should put a tiny bit under their nose, so they can smell it. It seems that all too often, people think it’s just not strong enough and want to make sure those in close proximity can smell it. Man, not only can I smell it, I can taste it—a scenario that should only arise in slightly more intimate situations than standing on the opposite side of the room. I work with a few people who, I swear, I can smell through the phone.