I'm sitting here finishing my bowl of cheap raisin bran cereal, which I've noticed has 5 times more raisins than the name brand. Two scoops my ass.

Anyhow, while I finish, I thought I'd pound out a quick post before I get on with my day.

I slept in again this morning and didn't get up until about 8:30. I'd like to start getting up earlier, but J is always *so* cozy in the mornings. Really, I blame him for keeping me in bed too long. If he hopped out of bed at 7 AM, then so would I. But instead he leaves the fan on for white noise which makes the room extra chilly, and so it makes it twice as hard to unwrap myself from him and those warm jersey sheets. I could lie there almost all day... or at least until 10.

The other reason I have had a hard time getting up in the morning is because I have been staying up too late either watching movies or reading.

Sunday night we watched Braveheart. I had never seen it. It always struck me as a violent "boy's movie". Anyhow, I gave it a chance and for the most part, I actually enjoyed it. Of course J fast-forwarded through the torture scenes for me... just like he did when we watched The Passion. (It took me forever before I agreed to watch that movie too, and then J had to fast-forward through over half of it.) I don't mind fast battle scene violence, which I watch with my fingers in my ears and my eyes squinted, but hate the individual torture stuff with a passion - no pun intended.

Jeez... what's with Mel Gibson's penchant for gory violence? I liked him much better when he was Rigs in the Lethal Weapon movies. (BTW, I heard a rumour they're doing a 5th?) Or even when he was the dad on Signs.

Then last night I decided to stick to my goal of reading 10 books this year, so I was up late reading a biography of Charles Schultz. I'm only about 120 pages in, but I can tell you that it really pulls the carpet out from all the sweet innocence of the Peanuts, that's for sure.

I always knew Charlie Brown was supposed to be symbolic of Charles Schultz (although Charles actually did have a moon-faced friend named Charles Brown.) But the odd thing is, Schultz (who is mainly refered to as Sparky in the book - his childhood nickname) seemed to be an outcast by choice. Unlike Charlie Brown who suffers constant humiliation and rejection by everyone including his own dog - with the exception of Linus.

Interviews with other kids Sparky Schultz grew up with indicate that everyone liked him, or at least tried to like him, but he simply wanted no part with any of them. Schultz even admits that he is the worst kind of egocentric - the kind who pretends to be humble.

And the grudges he held - oh gawd! - the grudges! I swear he could give Grandma M a run for her money. Each time I read a quote from him where he speaks about all his grudges and getting revenge on everyone, I find myself thinking, "Please stop. Please don't say that. This is not how I want to think of you." Honestly, the man held spiteful grudges well into his 60's about how unfair people were to him in childhood - although, it appears that many of these situations were ones he created himself through his own aloofness.

I mean, no doubt the guy struggled in life. He was small, insecure, and his mother spent many years bedridden dying of cervical cancer... But, it's more than that. There's a real edge to him that I didn't expect. An edge that I'm sure I'll come to understand more as I finish reading the next 300 pages.

Anyhow... my bran flakes are now soggy n' gross, saturated with skin milk, which means I should get back to work here. I've got a million pages to edit today. I wanted us to have this final draft done by Friday, but every time J copies his "edited" scenes over to my computer, they're always friggin' longer than what we started with. I'm gonna have to sharpen my editing ax, and start hacking.

So, on that note, I'm really not being very productive by sitting her blabbing to you folks about Braveheart and Peanuts, am I?

Have a nice Tuesday and maybe I'll come back up for air later.