In which doctors hunt

This is the link to a short film my friend Vanessa sent me: American Big Game is the name of it, but it could just as easily be titled, "When Doctors Hunt". It was written by an admirer of Vanessa's, and if I ever meet him in person, he will be my new best friend because this is awesome. My spleen hurts from laughing.

When you're done laughing yourself senseless, check out FreeRice . My friend Kristen sent me the link and I'm addicted. You can test your mad vocabulary skills, and feed the world at the same time!

On a side note, I finally perused the full Sexiest Man Alive issue of People Magazine, and they DID feature a few of our favorites in their extended list. Gerard Butler and Clive Owen both got in there, and People was kind enough to include a photo of Hugh Jackman. At the beach. (After extensive study undertaken on your behalf, I finally realized it's the muscle definition that does it. He's toned, but not TOO toned. Biceps and pecs should be cut, but while a firm midriff is essential, a six-pack just doesn't work for me. Ripped abdominals seem to suggest someone's trying too hard. They always makes me think of digestion, and if anything can ruin a good set of pecs, it's thinking about peristalsis.)

Revision watch: don't ask. I am DONE with this round and have nearly killed myself in the process. 116 pages done yesterday--that's 29,000 words revised in one sitting. Both shoulders are completely jacked up, and my entire body hurts. 614 pages, 122,000 words total. I have Janis Joplin blasting on my ipod. "Turtle Blues", people. Yes, it's just that bad. I am hanging on by my ragged fingernails here, holding out for Friday. When I settle into the couch for the Longhorn kickoff, leftover turkey-and-dressing sandwich in my freshly-manicured hands, THEN all will be right with the world. (I also have a massage and a pedicure booked this week. It's time to pull out the big guns.)