Happy New Year, everybody. Anybody stay up? It's not the same without Dick Clark, really. I didn't intend to, but my neighbors woke me up with firecrackers anyway.
Valentine's Day is coming. You know, in case the pink and red stuff everywhere didn't clue you in. I'm one of those weird people that kind of doesn't like Valentine's Day, to be honest. Pink and red are not compatible, and every free book/online "not news" article is titled 'how to get (and keep!) the man of your dreams. Is that literal? Because I've had a few dreams about...um...Sherlock Holmes, the Scarecrow, and James Bond-none of which were actually pleasant, by the way. Lots of running and screaming, and at least one leap off of a tower of wooden crates. They sucked, actually. I don't want any of them, thanks. Holmes might be okay, but Scarecrow would kill me and Bond would get me killed. Or at least give me an STD.
Anti-romantic, signing off. (Although I'll admit to squeezing over Faramir and Éowyn from LOTR, because that was adorable.)