It's been a long, weird week; a week in which I didn't get much of anything done. I did finally finish this crappy flyer for the station, and hit a lecture or two; worked on some lab projects and shoveled a lot of snow. A lot of snow. Ames has not experienced above-freezing temperatures since January 23, when the mercury reached 52°F (12 °C); that night the temperature dropped to 18°F (-8°C) and hasn't gotten much higher since. This wouldn't be so bad if we hadn't also received snow on nine days out of the past two weeks. The snow falls, but it doesn't go away, and then what are we supposed to do?

Sunday (in the middle of 32 straight hours of heavy, powdery snowfall) my roommate and I went over to some friends' house to watch The Game and eat roast chicken. I don't mean to bash the NFL, but most of the day's entertainment (NSFW) came after the game. It was a special day, after all, so we got their kitten together with some yarn and a paper bag. My words can't do justice to the wonderous display that followed, so I will leave the rest to your imagination.

This is not a terribly substantial addition to my previous writings. I made some good cajun food tonight, and it's hard to be serious about anything. Nothing too complicated: some red beans, rice, chicken and a can o' "extra hot" tomatoes and green peppers. I wasn't expecting it to be quite so spicy, but it was fantastic when it was all done--a twenty-five minute epiphany on my tongue. This isn't to brag, now; compared with real food--dishes and entrees, even!--that other people make, well, let's just say that Iron Chef Sakai is victorious. Tonight's concoction was, however, the first dish I've ever cooked and really enjoyed, because cooking is a strange, arcane magic that I've never fully comprehended.

...time to go; the lemon bars are done and the 90 Day Men record is skipping. Kippis!