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I smell cake

Remember what I said about the closet and the mansion? Well, Roman can stay. Anyone who can make witty, self-deprecating remarks that involve Spaceballs, have little Anakin and Luke figurines squirreled away in his desk, Luke's ship on top of the desk, and who understands the difference between the NCC-1701 and the NCC-1701D can share my office without giving me the heebie-jeebie "I need my space."

Katrina is raining down on us now, screwing up my NPR feed--such a trivial annoyance, all things considered.

I will never be able to thank Tracey and Caryl enough for talking me into going to New Orleans, and then Morguhn for agreeing to go back with me to Jackson Square a couple of years later. I have memories, even if, after this, New Orleans will never be the same--I saw her, I smelled her, tasted her. May God protect those who are trying to save her people.