Got the G1 today. As Sara says when she's using a Japanese exclamation, "Waaaaaaa!" It is beee-yoo-ti-full. Makes my day.

And speaking of days, yesterday started off pretty crappy.

I had this class to go to way up the fuck in Atlanta's techno corridor on GA 400 north of the perimeter (that being the big race track that surrounds Atl).

It was Deb's day to carpool with me, where she usually rides with me on the train, but instead we decided to take the car together so that we could use the HOV lane. Deb told me where the entrance to GA 400 is from her work neighborhood. I dropped her off and then proceeded to drive around�until I had to pee so bad my ears, nostrils and eyes were bleeding from the excess pressure�looking for an entrance onto GA 400. Deb was wrong. I guess you kinda have to live here to understand the no-man's land, secret, hidden panel road engineering that is access to this highway.

And there is nothing I hate worse than a) not knowing where I'm going in the first place, b) being lost, c) being late to a business-type thing, or d) having my bladder rupture inside my car.

Eventually I broke down and pulled into a Krystal to take a whizz, and eventually found the highway. I was only a couple minutes late to class, and there were about a dozen people who were later than I was.

The class itself was dull, as expected. A woman sitting down the row from me started snoring. She kept waking herself up with a little snork, so she left about halfway through the morning session and never came back.

The morning session also went about 30 minutes overtime, meaning we only had a 30 minute break for lunch at a location where it would take you 30 minutes just to get your car out of the parking deck. AND there hadn't been any breaks long enough to grab a smoke. So I rushed to the designated smoking area, dragged one in like my life depended on it, braved four lanes of traffic to walk to a nearby Chik-fil-A, bought a diet Coke and small waffle fries, ate six of the fries walking back to the building, smoked another half a cigarette, and went back to class. Ahhhh. Relaxing. I would abso-fucking-lutely hate to work up in that area.

Worst of all ... I found out the new train station is practically right underneath that building where the class was held. Could've taken the train and avoided the whole mess.

Someone signed my guestbook with just a "Hmmmmm....interesting...." No e-mail. No name. No URL. I'm wondering if it could be someone who knows me. Or am I just being paranoid?

And Amante .... Hottie girl from my office is a little rusty on her Portugese, but I think I get the gist. I sent her an e-mail asking her to translate for me, and then she sent back her response. But when she stopped by my office to say she could send it to some Brazilian friends of hers to translate into Spanish, and then she could translate it into English better for me, I was blushing so hard I could feel the heat in my cheeks and ears. As I am now. Geez. Don't you know it's not polite to make butches blush?

So how 'bout that Willow/Tara kiss last night, eh? Not an erotic circumstance for their first screen kiss, but very honest and out there. I thought they did a great job with that whole episode. Whedon got that shocky feeling just right.

The other girls were tearing up from the first part of the episode, but I never did. Anya's breakdown got to me the most, but still not to the point of tears.

I wonder if my father's death not so long ago just has that response shut off. I could really relate to Dawn's sense of it not being real. When you just saw someone who seemed pretty fine, and then someone calls up and tells you they're dead, but you haven't seen it for yourself, it doesn't seem real. Not for a long time.

The day my father died, my sister or my mother called me in Atlanta to come home because he'd gone back in the hospital. When I reached the hospital, there was a message for me to meet my family at mom and dad's house. That told me that he had died.

At the viewing on the night before the funeral I touched my father's hand as he lay in his casket. That's when I knew he was truly gone.

When the U.S. Marines Honor Guard gave the 21-gun salute at the burial, that's when I lost it.

Some of it comes back so vividly.