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Who shot Doggett? Where is Mulder’s sister? And which side are the shape shifters really on? Hopefully, it will all be told in the finale (or some reasonable season-cliff-hanger type of deal until the next movie comes out.) Hey, you don’t expect Chris Cater to just lay all his cards on the table, do you? He’s just not that type of guy. It’s not his nature.

BTW, yesterday’s “second” blog was quite lame. I do believe I can blog one more time before “over blogging.” Is there such a thing? Can you blog too much? Let your inner child rule the roost as it were? I suppose it’s possible but I think it would take more than 1 blog per day to evoke such an “inner chaos.” And, speaking of “chaos,” a lot of Ci2i folks are wondering when (if?) they are going to get W-2 forms this year. Since the company went under, will we receive them? Who knows? I have recommended to all that you save your last paycheck and make due with this if it comes to it. I shall keep you posted and informed if (when?) I receive mine. I have received several from my former employers last year but, alas, not one from Ci2i. I find it strange that I had so many employers, but that’s life in Austin high-tech (hey, that would make another good blog, all to itself, right?) This is turning into quite the scattered blog. Maybe I should switch topics again, just to confuse you. Nah. OK, here goes.

It’s raining today. Not that I mind the rain, as I have always had a preference for dark, brooding weather. But, I’ve come to the conclusion that rainy days are a bit like “sleeping under the same sky.” A foolish, romantic notion that has little to do with reality and more to do with dead poets. Not that I dislike dead poets, mind you, but they have little to do and far to reach to define present-day nirvana. I mean, maybe if I were living in Hawaii and could enjoy the soft, gentle rain failing off the lanai, hitting the water pool beneath me as I sleep in my hamock and enjoy the ocean breeze with the smell of the brackish waves dropping off the horizon wafting up to me. But, when you have to drive in Austin, rain just sucks. Period. You can’t enjoy it. You can’t relish it. You can’t possibly pine for it. Most of the times, you cannot even sleep late. Which is half the appeal of a good rainstorm anyway. What’s that they used to say about rainy days and Mondays? Now, there’s a poet I can relate too. Today somehow feels like a rainy Monday.

And, to change the topic yet again, Ken has commented that I have devoted much too much time/space/blogness/whatever to the subject of “food” (“foodstuff,” food “items,” Doritoes, etc.) I will try to avoid the topic for today except to mention, in passing, that I’m not going to talk about food. HE is a great cook by the way. I can tell by the way he holds his knife, the vegetables he grows in his garden, and the pots in my kitchen he complimented. (SHE can hardly boil an egg, but that’s HIS problem, right?) It was fun to watch THEM together in my kitchen. SHE could not hold the tea kettle to his cooking. All SHE did was complain about the cost of the “food items” which I said I would not talk about.

Maybe the smoking man can buy me some groceries. And, I bet alien implants are a lot cheaper than the real ones.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.


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