Y’know, I have to say, watching Battlestar Galactica, I was not really getting the attraction of Number Six. But looking at Tricia Helfer’s Playboy shoot, I um. I may be coming around. Woman is hot like woah.

I’d still rather have Grace Park, though. And I’m not picturing her hypothetical spread in my head, really, not at all, I swear, stoplookingatmelikethat.

I feel drained and headachey, and I am not liking it one bit, sir.

On the upside, my Boromir figure arrived Saturday, and he is every bit as awesome as I was led to believe. One of the connecting loops on his swordbelt had come undone, and I had a brief spot of vexation repairing it — sometimes human hands are just too frickin’ big, y’all — but it was simple enough and he is now whole and awesome and making all the Barbies swoon.

Today is the day we pick up my birthday cake. If I’m still feeling all achey and blah later, though, I may just lay down and let other people get it. Yeah. That’s sounding like a really good idea right now….