If a cow ever got the chance...

Well, that was really bombastic. Sorry. I think I was a little freaked out by C's cousins, who are tiny, perfectly made-up, tiny, tough chicks with midriff shirts and long nails who I fear would be saying mean things about me in the bathroom if I wasn't a "family friend", but since I am, I have to make my way through the insincere-hug-and-kiss gauntlet (save me from these limp girly arm encircles [five in a row!] and double cheek kisses; they leave me psychically curled up in the fetal position loudly proclaiming "BUT I DON'T LIKE TO BE TOUCHED!")

I know I'm a jerk. People in my family tend to greet each other by remarking on the progress of the other person's receding hairline (men and women both!) and we all express affection by playing Punch Buggy. Except with no Volkswagens around. Uh, okay, we just punch each other.

Kill Bill was actually really good--totally stylized and lovely to look at. The plot is the dumbest thing ever--deliberately, so there's nothing to get in the way of the images. Except now I kind of want to chop my arm off to see if it makes that pretty cherry-red fountain of cartoon blood. It's bad when I watch TV or movies. If I turned on Fox News in the morning and someone was sticking pennies up their nose, I'd be doing it too by 10 a.m. Probably should get a V-chip.

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