I can’t stop watching this video, because it is freaking awesome. (And not just cause Gawker told me so.)

My favorite part is the kitty scratch dance. I can’t wait to pull that one out at The Zzu.

My favorite spot in the library used to be among the American politics books. Since the redesign, I have these guys surrounding me on power study sessions. The titles are far less distracting.

While I was gone this weekend, Bandit got his stitches taken out and – lo and behold – no more cone for him! I’d show you, but, well … all my pictures of him turn out like this. I told you I have an out-of-focus dog!

Get the point?

A screamo anthem for WAY TOO MUCH effing homework!

P.S. I can’t post anything mentioning Utah without giving a shoutout to my MSCNE/blogging buddy Krista over at Salt City Girl.

I guess I can’t call myself a vegetarian anymore.

I ♥ FISH!

It weirded me out at first, but it’s … just … good. Filling and healthy and proteiny. At least twice in the last week, I’ve had fish for three meals in a row.

But I refuse to subject myself to “pescatarian” and the other silly service-my-special-dietary-needs semantics I’m trying to break away from.

As could be expected, I’m having a harder time with other meats.

The idea of sausage, hot dogs or other pork products just ain’t doing it for me. It just seems like pork gets so processed all the time, and — barring my all-consuming love of chips — I generally try to avoid over-processed foods.

I had some more bites of steak a week or so ago, and it did taste good. It’s just hard to get over the visual initial freakout (OMG FLESH AGHHHHH). The thought of a few ounces of red meat sitting in my stomach makes me queasy, but I’m still having iron problems. Baby steps. The SO’s grill working overtime sure doesn’t hurt.

As for chicken, I’ve had only low-quality BK tenders and a bite of enchiladas. Just need to try better recipes. Until then, I’ll stick with my good friend spinach.

And I am EXCITED for a whole new Thanksgiving feast experience.

In other news, my family’s reaction has been a little funny. My vegetarian sister is scandalized. She asks me questions about texture like you ask about graphic details of a horrific crime. My sister in Calif. and her husband: “HALLELUJAH,” or as they spelled it, “HOWLA LOWLA.” I’ll be a little sheepish when I tell my vegetarian grandma.

My sister Nicki’s dogs, Zena and Chief, had some pups awhile back. This is the sole survivor, but little Mya is soooooooooooooooo cute.