I have a degree in writing.  Well, a minor.  A minor in English. Actually, I realized after the fact that I already had qualified for status as an English minor, with all the writing courses I'd been taking at the time. 

I digress.

I used to be able to communicate without the use of them, but over the years I've developed an online addiction to sideways happy faces and sideways winks.  I don't know what started it or, more importantly, what accelerated and solidified its place in 90% of my writings.  I can at least find consolation in knowing that my constant "hee hee"s have morphed into the more subdued and elegant "heh heh"s.  Maybe it's that mesmerizing balancing act I do between Big Giggly Imp and Brooding Arty Semi-Educated Fuck. (I prefer the former.) Regardless, it's now an undeniable and accepted part of everything I type in www-land. 

And the music?  Oh, yes, the music.  While in the midst of jobs, living arrangements, and family stuffs, there has been music, both in the listening sense and the creation sense. 

Creation-wise: I laid down the drum track for a new song that so far reminds me of Jellyfish via Queen (i.e. Shirley Bassey with louder guitars) via The Partridge Family (maybe due to the bouncy harpsichord). Out of the buckets full o' songs I'm working on so far, it's a toss-up as to what the organization will be.  Realistically, I'll have something ready by early/mid-2007.  Spare time's an elusive scamp, so says the fatty who spent the previous evening drinking wine and watching sitcom reruns.

Listening-wise: I drove to Canada to buy the latest Sloan album, Never Hear The End Of It, when it was released and it's been in regular rotation since.  After a few listens, I've tried to listen to other new releases, but it pulls me back.  It won't let me go.  I am its bitch.  I will do anything for it.  Such is love.

Cheers!