Hmph.

Strong is not pronounced "schtrong," despite what the Army wants you to believe. Watching all of Season 1 of Heroes while home sick from work has made me peevish because no one can kill Sylar, dammit, and New York will get blown up before I get a chance to visit again. My nephew, Kyan, called me to tell me that he misses me and I bawled. Gus the three toed box turtle eats superworms like his head is a particularly prehistoric vacuum attachment, and it amuses me to watch his little steam shovel jaw scoop up the leftover crunchy bits. Crap, and speaking of vacuum attachments, I STILL haven't emptied the vacuum cleaner bag to find my diamond earring that got sucked up while I watched in slow motion, too torpid to intercede.

The behaviorist came to help us with Sasha, so we're reading to him and trying to make our presence near his cage less unbearable. It turns out he was pretty terrified from having the cage under the window, so we're undoing our own damage. I hope we can hold him again. Cyril is mad because we got him a new, separate cage, so he bit me, which hurt my feelings. However, he's so cute when he's mad I can hardly stand it. Who's the cutest fluffy angry birdie? He's also gotten very chubby and has breastbone cleavage, which is bad, apparently. I need to take him to the vet for his annual anyway, so I'll ask their advice.

The skylight in the guest bedroom is leaking from a old and busted seal. And why the hell am I so dizzy all the time? I just really want a piece of fried chicken, but then I think of KFC and their awful practices and lose my appetite. Christian and I have hardly seen each other in weeks because I'm rehearsing so much and our vacation seems impossibly far away, even though it's now in less than two months and, between now and then, I have two shows, a holiday and possibly surgery, for which I'm trying to lose weight so I'm hungry all the time. Christian just brought me home a beef and cheddar, though, so I'm fine now.

We had a turkey dinner on Sunday to say goodbye to Tina, and I have no clue what to do with all the leftovers, especially the gravy, which I hate. All the stuffing is gone, too, and that's the best part. Man, I still need to find out what Steel Pig puts in their sauce, now that they're closed and I have nowhere to get my fix.

I wonder if I'm depressed about something.