Welcome to my blog, where I blather about what a lazy dope I am.

This weekend, all I did was read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

However, I didn't do anything wacky or devotee-like, such as stand in line to get it at midnight the instant it came out. I waited until the next day and bought it on the cheap at Wal-Mart, like any decent sort.

M told me that all the greens were buying the Canadian version of the book because it was printed on 100% recycled paper, whereas the 10 million American copies were printed on virgin timber. As if I need any more American guilt in my life. When I finished the book this evening, I read the typographical note at the back, because it was in a small italicized font in a diamond design with a graphic of a lantern at the top of the diamond, which my eyes found intriguing. It said, "The book was typeset by Brad Walrod and was printed and bound at RR Donnelley in Crawfordsville, Indiana, on paper that is free of fiber from ancient forests." To which I use the only applicable six letters: lol, wtf?

Anyway, now I know who the Half-Blood Prince is, and who dies. And with any luck I'll get those Harry Potter dreams for the next couple nights, where I watch it all like a movie in my head. Lord knows I haven't been filling my brain with much else this weekend.

Oh, the girls liked the little fairy whats-its. They were very shy with me. They claimed to remember me but mostly just stared at me while we ate breakfast. They seemed even girlier than I remembered, which got me thinking about gender roles and stereotypes and luckily I had Harry Potter to take over the cognizant part of my brain and put those thoughts on hold.

Advair, well, i'm 50/50 on it. It's definately helping my asthma. When I think to take a deep breath now, I can actually do it; it's like I'm getting, say, 20% more air than I used to when I draw a breath. I suck air in and at the point when my lungs used to be full, they keep going. Which is super neat-o. It's like I've got an extra lung in there. I haven't tested it out by running yet (the ultimate for me, as I get an asthma attack every single time), but I'm looking forward to giving it a whirl. This rain is driving me nuts--I haven't been skating in about five days, and it's kicking my ass. Can't skate at all when the pavement is even slightly damp; I lose all grip.

The downside of Advair is that since I started it Thursday, my voice has been going all wonky and getting wonkier with each dose. I've never had a great voice; it cracks more than most people's and gives out pretty easily. I get this from my dad, whose voice seems to be worsening as he ages. But Advair is making my voice noticeably worse. It's weird how it feels; I have to use more force to get my voice to come out, and when it does come out, it's hoarse like I've been talking for hours. A quick Google search of Advair+voice yielded 34,000 pages. Most of the time when you do medical searches you just get crud like official drug-company lines vs people talking in forums about their problems with the drugs, which is what most of that seemed to be. Voice changes are listed in Advair's side effects. We'll have to see how much worse this gets; right now it's annoying but I can live with it. My throat almost constantly feels tight, like right before you get a cold, but I'm not getting a cold. Guess the ol' test of time will tell.

Now that the fear of blindness has left me, it's replaced with a feeling of annoyance at these weird vision quirks. I wish they'd stop already.

Bloody weekend in Iraq, even more so than usual. More loss of innocent life than occurred in London, and far less news coverage. Is it any wonder anyone ever goes 'round the bend? What a fucked-up world this is. Oh, American guilt, you become my closer and closer companion...

Over n' out for the weekend; Monday awaits, crouched and hunkering at the end of the tunnel of tonight's sleep with a giant packet of stuff needing proofed and, lurking in the shadows of Tuesday or so, the delivery of my NEW CAMERA that makes it all worth it. Word to yer mother, yo.