Afterwards, I said to Jeff: "I should call Andrew, you know. He and Joy both will be tickled to hear this."

A few minutes later: phone, earpiece, and frightening number of night and weekend minutes firmly in hand, I used my cell phone to call Andrew and Joy's house. I reached Andrew, and could immediately hear noise in the background. "Hey, Amy! We're playing Siedler, so I can't talk for very long…""Well, I won't keep you. But I have some news for you that I think you'll like."

"Oh dear. What's that?"

"I started watching season 1 of Buffy tonight."

—at which point he yells "Woo-hoo!"—and puts the phone down. Slightly muffled, I hear him say, "Guess what? Amy's started watching Buffy!" Not so muffled was the cheer that erupted at the end of the sentence.

"They're checking my blood sugar levels all the damn time now. If it goes above 200, they come in and give me a shot, and if it drops below 100, they bring me food and make me eat."

He stopped for a second or two. I heard indeterminate noises; I think he was eating.

"Those shots hurt, you know. Had four of them in one day a couple of days ago. I don't particularly want that again."

He laughed."I've about figured it out, though. Mom found where they're keeping the coffee pot. It's just a couple of doors down from my room. I can pretty well avoid the insulin shots if I don't put sugar in my coffee. So I get your mother to get all the Sweet&Low packets she can, and I put those in my coffee."

"Is the coffee pretty decent? If it's not, you could get Mom to bring up that little travel-sized coffeemaker I got for you a couple of Christmases ago."

Andrew and Joy tried to explain her to me, but I've managed to forget everything about her (including her name) except for two things: the way she looks, and one of her pet peeves. "She has this thing," Andrew said with a laugh, "about butt-warmth. It just grosses her out."

Butt-warmth? What in the world? I assumed it was one of those terms that, while thoroughly confusing on first listen, made perfect and complete sense once it had been explained.

I was right: 'butt-warmth' is the perfect word to describe what her pet peeve was. If forced to define, it would be something like this:

butt-warmth, (noun): The noticeable rise in ambient temperature left behind after a person sits in a chair for a period of time, and then leaves the chair vacant for the next person.

Subjectline courtesy David Gray. I've been singing it this afternoon, after a chance encounter with the song on the radio. It's probably one of my favorites from this year.

I've been toying with how I wanted to start this entry; this, my official switching from everyday life to the frantic and frenzy that comes for preparing for a classic Domesticat RoadTrip. I've been at a loss for how to begin.

Some days, it's just difficult to make up your mind. Go to the Christmas bazaar with a friend, or attend a screening of Hedwig and the Angry Inch?

Me: Hrm…..I'm feeling damned indecisive today. *laugh* I'm sitting here knowing I should make up my mind…but find myself thinking….'mmm, nap, sunshine.'Kat: *laughing* Okay, then I'll make up your mind for you. Amy, you're going to [the for-charity Christmas bazaar]. You will leave the house at 1pm and head over here and we'll go into town together.

Amy: From my spouse: "I think you have your answer, Amy." OK.

Even I, dear readers, can occasionally take a hint. Therefore I showed up, Amy-style.

In attempts to imitate my walk and talk, there are two proper facial-expressions to assume while shopping: the absent-minded-professor look, and the kamikaze-shopping-trip look. I tend to favor the former; it requires less effort, and people don't glare at an absent-minded professor as a twentysomething power-shopping for groceries in fifteen minutes or less.