biggest losers.

The cat, no longer a kitten, really, since he singed a good amount of the fur off his tail last night, provides me with both frustration [knocking my harmonica off the table, chewing on everything in sight] and a whole bunch of entertainment: He ponders - Do I push the pom pom ball, or do I mutilate the drying rack? It's great to see him full-out ponder. I wonder if observing a cat this closely and giving him so many human traits is a reason behind why I'm struggling a lil bit to strongly develop my main character.

Today, while I silently moped off overwhelming amounts of Novocaine, I finally watched this year's Doctor Who Christmas special - A big one - It was David Tennant's final episode, and therefore, quite emotional. It was a nice way to send him off, brief as it was, especially the way they hooked Jack up with Alonso, and threw us back to Rose in 2005. I think that was nice. John Simm's scruff was rather sexy. Matt Smith is adorable and I can't wait to see what, if anything different, he does with the character.

I now have a terrible fear of root canals, choking, hydrogenated fats, and never seeing my body how the world actually sees it [see: photos of myself at seventeen where, at the time, I thought I was humongous. Look back now and I see that I was probably underweight.] Yipes.