Watching: Buffy and the President. (Interesting crossover.) Buffy sucked. The President was cool, and I realize we're not supposed to make fun of him anymore, but really, I wish someone would teach him how to pronounce "nuclear."

Answering: Many, many MBE questions. I hate the bar.

Blogging: Fractious Times.

Listening: A bunch of random songs downloaded at Aimster, Madster, whatever the hell it is this week.

So, here I am, age 30, having a snow day.

Technically, it's an ice day. In case you haven't looked at a weather map recently (and seeing as all you East Coasters are having 70-degree days, you might find this hard to believe), we here in Kansas City are having a rather serious ice storm.

It actually started raining ice (freezing rain? sleet? whatever, it's raining ice) late yesterday afternoon. I threw some work in my bag for appearances and left the office at 4:00, and it took me just over an hour to get home (my commute is 15 miles, all highway). I stopped at the store and stocked up on snow-day essentials (diet Dr. Pepper, Folger's Caramel Groove, Nilla wafers, sliced turkey, and fireplace logs) and settled in for an evening in front of the tube. By the time I went to bed, I had already decided that unless I got up in the morning and they were talking about how the big storm missed us completely, I was not risking my life (not to mention my seven-month-old car) to haul my ass downtown.

So I got awake at 7, turned on the television to see the weather guy talk about how it's a sheet of ice out there and it's supposed to continue throughout the day and turn into snow sometime tonight with an accumulation of 2 to 5 inches and every single school district in the area is closed including the University of Kansas which never closes, turned off the television and went back to sleep until 11:30.

It's now 1:30 and I'm still in pajamas. All of my friends stayed home today too, which would be cool except none of us can get anywhere. I do plan on being productive today, although it won't be for the Firm's benefit -- I'm going to study.

Besides, this storm is supposed to last until tomorrow afternoon, which means I might not be going anywhere tomorrow either. Plenty of time to actually do the work I brought home.

(Hey, the guy on the Weather Channel just said "Right now in Kansas City, it's like driving on ball bearings." Woo hoo.)

Okay, it's now 3:15 and I'm not in pajamas anymore. I took a bath and read an article from the latest Vanity Fair about Robert Durst, this rich but completely crazy guy who (allegedly) killed his wife twenty years ago in New York, and then (allegedly) killed his best friend in Los Angeles on Christmas Eve, 2000, and then (allegedly) killed his next-door neighbor in Galveston, Texas last September. The wife was never found, the best friend (who was getting ready to talk to the police about the wife's disappearance) was found shot in the back of the head in her own house, and the next door neighbor's torso was found floating in the Gulf of Mexico. The police found trash bags with his arms and legs in them, but they still haven't found his head.

Anyway, Robert Durst was arrested for the neighbor's death in October, posted bail, and didn't show up for a court hearing a week later. In December, though, he was arrested in Pennsylvania for stealing Band-Aids and a chicken sandwich from a grocery store, even though he had $500 on him. They found two guns, some marijuana, and $37,000 in cash in the trunk of his car, which displayed stolen Maryland tags and was rented in Mobile, Alabama under the name of the dead neighbor.

Vanity Fair always has the best stories about the rich and crazy. There's another article in this issue about the Marks & Spencer heiress who watched Brideshead Revisited when she was 14 and decided she would do whatever she had to to get that house, which for her meant marrying its owner.

I'm saving that article, in case I'm ice-bound again tomorrow.

So, I was perusing my referral logs the other day and discovered that someone found me by just putting "Elizabeth" into Google. For some reason, I was kind of impressed with this, so I did it too, and I'll be damned if I'm not the 28th most popular "Elizabeth" on the internet, right between Elizabeth Arden and Shannon Elizabeth. (Oh yes, I am more popular than Shannon Elizabeth, you betcha.)

I don't know why this fascinated me so much, but I have just wasted about a half an hour looking up all my friends. Kymm is, of course, not only the most popular "Kymm" but has all but three of the first ten entries. Corina is the fourth most popular "Corina" (although she doesn't count because SHE QUIT). Rob is the seventh most popular "Rob," Dora the seventh most popular "Dora."

Colleen is 55th, but would have easily been in the 30's if not for a Survivor and a Harlequin Romance author. Melissa is 60th, but she does share her name with a rock star, a couple of actresses, and a famous computer virus. Kate shows up at 130th, but she'd have been a lot higher if it weren't for "Kate & Leopold" and Kate Mulgrew and Kate Chopin and Kate Spade and Kate Winslet.

And dear Athena, you are 200th, but that's what you get for being the goddess of wisdom, not to mention the name of the next mission to Mars, an antihydrogen experiment, and a Russian mail-order bride agency.

Well, this is a snow-day-worthy entry if ever there was one. I promise, if I stay home tomorrow, you'll have another new entry tomorrow, but right now I'm going to use my time wisely and see what I can do about my index page which now makes me cringe every time it opens.