F5:

1. short-short sci-fi.

2. Lion, Witch, Wardrobe.

3. because it's.

4. Jane Austen; Virginia Woolf.

5. 1, 2; next.
And, figuratively:

Where are you?
I'm pleased with how

this one turned out:

Who are you?
'S gonna be

a long day.
Another day,

another manager.
Snow days

when you're a grown-up

are marvelous.
I know you were dying

to know that.
Ack.

Callouses itch!
Jeremy reminds me

that it takes extra conviction

to protest in a Chicago winter.

It's easy to be indignant

in a t-shirt.
psst.

I won.
The volleyball courts

turn to lakes,

and I think

of your hands:

rainy day.
Who'd've thought?

A QA inspection

that added merit.
When an off-hand comment

shatters your life
.
I'm always the last to know:

Google bought Blogger.
Daredevil: As long as

you know you're right,

it's okay to exact punishment,

never mind our justice system

or civil liberties.

Apt.
What we

did today

with 10,000 friends.
Playing bocce

on my birthday.

(They creamed us.)
Bill Goldman,

author of The Princess Bride,

recommends

You Can Count On Me,

for what it's worth.
On site registrations:

I would rather pay you money

than give you my email address.
Oo!

1, 2, 3,
4, 5, 6

Or, rather,

PHP OO!
When talking about code,

I'd prefer you said,

"under the hood,"

instead of "under the covers."
What my world is like:

Textism

tells it like it is.
*gasp*

My microwave

has a mute button!

All of my dreams

have been fulfilled.
Shoot.

Ever devise the perfect meme

and then realize you only

remembered it?

At least there's Google,

to save you the embarrassment.
News websites

design as if

newsprint is expensive.
Oh, look.

I have a blog.

Where did that come from?
Another?!

[mouth hangs agape]

And then an utter shock,

and I'm done.

September is very far away.
Don't just sit there.

Say something.
Mental success:

Climbed an actual route,

sticking to just

the green-marked holds.

5.7 -- Woo hoo!

Also: Ow.
Oh, man.

We're running out of characters.

But then,

two I'd thought were done for

weren't.
And another character died,

by the way,

for those following along

at home.
Oh, brother.

"Push back"

is not a noun.
I bow in reverence

today

for the gifts I've been given,

too numerous

and too ethereal

to be listed.
This is not news:

I have wonderful friends.

I am a lucky, lucky

Sherbirfday Girl.

Yes.
They've torn up

the last remaining field

on my commute.

Fuckers.
And now they're home.

*sniff*

Swell visit. Much eating.

And much hugging.