It's that time of year, huh? I made the trifle for Thanksgiving, and the meat ragout for a weeknight dinner. The trifle was divine, and I'm so proud of it! The ragout was...eh, I've certainly had worse, but I've also had much better. The things I didn't like would be easy enough to fix, but I didn't love the dish enough to feel like it's worth doing again. Plus, it's a pretty expensive dish to put together.

The peppermint sandies and ginger cookies are for the beginning of the Xmas parties. There's a party on Saturday, and a cookie swap on Sunday. I'm making my Neiman Marcus cookies tomorrow, and some chocolate-toffee cookies either tomorrow or Thursday. I love and adore Neiman Marcus cookies, mostly because I don't have to share. My mom can't eat oatmeal and my dad doesn't like it, so...more for me, hooray!

I got my H1N1 vaccine today. It was the nasal mist, and that's a new experience. Kinda weird. I thought it was going to be the injection, so I was kicking myself all morning for wearing a sweater with a lot of little buttons. Obviously the first thing I want to do is half-strip for the nurse, aw yeah.

Nope, instead, a perfect stranger stuck something in my nose. So awkward. And now (and this is totally normal) it feels like I have a cold again. According to the CDC sheet the nurse gave me, this will probably go away overnight.

Another job fair tomorrow. I still have to start sending out resumes on my own, but I want to get through finals first. Ugh. Finals.

Author: Shakatany
Series: Babylon 5
Pairing: Neroon/?
Rating: FRT
Chapters: 1/?
Disclaimer: These stories are not meant to infringe upon the copyrights held by J. Michael Straczynski, Kathryn M. Drennan, Babylonian Inc. or Time Warner Productions. I'm merely playing with what they've apparently abandoned, adding my own take on that universe. It's not my fault...my muse is forcing me to do it.
Summary: After "Objects at Rest" John and Delenn find that once again the dead do not stay dead.
Note: This fic is dedicated to John Vickery who has been described as having a voice that could melt the underwear off a cloistered nun at 50 paces. So very true.