He's doing a lot of quoting from other shark experts' books and starts sentences with "We will see that blah blah blah blah ... " and follows them up with "For that you will have to read on." No duh. A little melodramatic touch to try to make scientific writing more interesting I guess. But he's done it so many times now I feel like I should make a drinking game out of it.

And speaking of drinking games. While I was so hammered Wednesday night, I missed everyone planning to go out for lunch with Kris on Friday. But I didn't miss the even itself. It was just a surprise. We get off at 12:30 on Fridays during the summer, so we all met up at a bar/restaurant establishment and stayed there for about 3 hours. I didn't drink at all this time. Wednesday night met my alcohol quota for the rest of the month.

The little meeting we had with the psyCOO on Friday morning was hideous. One of my coworkers sent to us, and the administrative officers, and the board of directors, that quote from Camelot that contains "remember that for one brief shining moment etc. etc." because Kris got axed right when the publications department was in the height of our glory days. We'd just won eight magazine awards and were finally fully staffed and fully trained.

So the psyCOO says in the meeting, "Camelot is dead." Then reminds us that half of us could still lose our jobs if they decide they need to cannibalize one of the magazines. That's basically what happened to Kris' position. They needed her salary to hire someone for a new department they want to start up. One that won't bring in any money, I might add.

Anyway, enough bitching about that. If I get canned, I'll just become a professional dominatrix like Anenigma. But I'm not wearing those godawful high heels or corsets or any of that girly shit.

It's been a quiet weekend without the girls next door. A lot of reading. I'm not feeling particularly sexual at all for some reason. I just turned down an offer for sex from Deb because I'd taken a nap and my left arm didn't feel up to leaning on it. I was taking a nap because my arm woke me up once in the middle of the night and again at 6:30 a.m. Bastard arm.

The cool thing was that it woke me up just in time to watch the first part of the Xena series finale, which airs at 3 a.m. here. I know I'm a sick puppy because it turned me on every time the Japanese girl pulled her hair to one side to let Xena know it was okay with her if she wanted to chop her head off. Whoo, I'm sick.

I also read Jamling Tenzing Norgay's (the Sherpa who summited Mt. Everest with the IMAX team in 1996, son of Tenzing Norgay, who summited with Edmund Hillary in 1953) book, "Touching My Father's Soul" last week. It did a lot to increase my respect for Buddhism. I still don't go for all the prayer flags and prayer wheels and little pills made out of herbs and the fingernail clippings of revered lamas, but the basic tenets of being happy with what you've got and giving your good karma points to the advancement of everyone has a lot to offer this world. And rituals are a great way to remind you of your past and your pupose.

The Buddists say that all life is suffering, and that the cause of suffering is desire. To decrease suffering, you must decrease desire. Badsnake, you say, you live for desire. Wassup with that? Heh. No, I live for the fulfillment of desire.

At the same time I got Norgay's book from the library, I also checked out "The Second Death of George Mallory" by Reinhold Messner. It's been harder for me to get into that one. Messner, a renowned climber, quotes bits of Mallory's diary, but then adds what he believes would've been Mallory's thoughts on different stages and topics, as if he lived to come back down Everest and see what happened long after his own attempt. And he does it in first person. To me, it's reading as extremely pompous and it's irritating the hell out of me. I tried to skip those little italicized sections, but the temptation to see what he'll say has been too great. I'll probably give it another try. Mallory's diary entries have been interesting, and I shouldn't let Messner's self-importance get in the way. If he'd just done it in 2nd person analysis-style, I would be fine with it.

Deb made us huevos rancheros for breakfast this morning. Jake doesn't eat eggs, so this was a good chance for us to try something new for Sunday breakfast. Whooo-eeee, those were good. Corn tortillas covered with black beans and onions seasoned with cumin, eggs, cheese and enchilada sauce. Another Saveur magazine recipe.

This afternoon we've made chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownie in it. Ah, the simple pleasures. I really need to start walking more again.

More on the girls' homecoming tomorrow. We're picking them up at the airport soon and I need to get this posted before they call.

I'll cover my g-spot question for the advice column when I'm feelin' more saucy.