Sore.

And, as yet, vastly underwhelmed by the powers of Extra Strength Tylenol.

Cool stuff, though, in more upbeat news: in a six-degrees-of-the-Internet sort of move, two of my favorite sites have discovered each other. Jennifer Weiner, author of Good in Bed, loves Television Without Pity. It's all so karmic and ying-and-yang.

In that vein, and less cheerfully, if you are the thieving book borrower that has my copy of Good in Bed - or, for that matter, Wicked - please, please be nice and give back?

A musing, on the blog genre, with a snippet of verse guaranteed to get a song stuck in the Rock Star's head again. There's a fine, fine line between conversation and improper conversation.

What's too personal to post? There are little diaries - paper ones - and therapists - and places for really in-depth soul-searching. And I don't think this is one of those places. But, if I don't post personal sorts of things, what point is there? Since I'm not posting about work-related things, or about a particular hobby, or political essays, or something.

What people find out about this site, and what people don't, and what control do I have over it? Not much, I learned, when a prospective employer found it a year ago. So should I try to control it at all? Should I publicize it more?

And, lastly, not really about blogging but more about the Internet in general. Could we PLEASE remember how to write proper sentences and spell correctly, people? Even if you don't always use it. Just know how. I'm not using full sentences here. But I realize that and I'm doing it on purpose. I know how to construct one. And I fear for the sanctity of the English language.