You wake up to find yourself buried underground. Describe what happens next.

First matter of business. I've been reading Dinosaur Comics for a long time, and my opinion on it has ranged from "this is the best thing ever" to "meh" at various points. Today, however, delivered. For me*, at least. I would like to be friends with Ryan North.
*I am amused by both the concepts of "GAY" and "DUDES," in case it was not already clear.

Image: B., summer 2005. Homemade Dinosaur Comics tee shirt.

There hasn't been much I've wanted to say lately, which is why this is the first update in a long time! I've been toying with the idea of visiting Brooklyn (actually, some good friends in Brooklyn), but I might have to earmark the money I'd be spending on travels for other, less exciting things. Like late fees on tax filing. Blrgh.

OH! This terrifying thing happened last night at 3:30am: I woke up in a state of confusion, because I typically sleep in deep and total oblivion, impervious to all outside stimuli (not unlike my usual state at work). Something was making an UNHOLY mechanical whirring-churning-chrrrhcrrrchrrrrhcrrrchrrrr sort of noise, but it took me several seconds to orient myself enough to notice that this was probably what had woken me up. Next to me, Malachy was sitting up where he had been curled next to my pillow, sending me assurances: "Something's going on here. I think. I'm going to sit here for a while, and if anything bad happens, I'll be... over there." It took me clambering out of bed and tottering around to identify the radiator as the culprit of the noise, but then I spent the next 5 minutes wondering if I should call my landlord Peter, or just go sleep on the couch in case toxic levels of carbon monoxide were somehow seeping out of my radiator and would kill me in a matter of minutes. Doesn't carbon monoxide poisoning make you really sleepy? God, I was so sleepy. And it would be so cold and uncomfortable on the couch. Maybe I should just crawl back into bed and hope for the best.

I was not having this dream.

I found out this morning that I had nothing to worry about, which is good, because I gave up after the power cut out and back on a couple of times, and finally came back without the whirring-churrrrhghrghrrrchrrrrrchrrrrrrrrchrhghghrrrrrrring (and then I spent another 5 minutes worrying that the radiator was nevertheless going to explode a couple of hours later and kill me in my sleep). Anyway... we have no heat! Until Landlord Peter gets the pump - seriously why the hell is it so loud is there a good reason for that? - fixed. But the nice thing is, he's a very thorough and attentive landlord, likely due in large part to the fact that he lives below us, and was the one killing and reanimating the power as he fiddled with breaker switches last night. At 3:30am! Maybe closer to 3:45 at that point.

Jesus Christmas, I am tired.