So a few weeks ago, Marzetta confesses she�s started calling me �The Freckler.� She�d just returned from a vacation in warm and sunny climes, and she found herself having to explain why she wasn�t very tan. She, like most reasonable, sensible women, applies mucho sunscreen, since she both cares about her health and prefers to not look like an overcooked baked potato. She confessed to Reb that she also tends to freckle, to which Reb turned up her nose and asserted that she certainly never freckles.

Which led to them theorizing about other people who would freckle. Naturally Marzetta knew that I was a freckler, since I�m befreckled in the middle of winter, even in my eyes, and since tanning, to me, means a thicker coating of freckles.

So this little morsel was on her mind for several days, till she finally confessed she�d been referring to me as The Freckler to her husband.

We had a bit of a meeting about the thing, and we�ve concluded that The Freckler is definitely my alter ego. Certainly no superhero, as she�s more inclined to do evil than good. You may already be her minion and not even know it. She gets people by freckling them with special freckles which, when viewed under a microscope, look like her special Freckler sign. Once they�re freckled, they do her bidding without even realizing.

At present, since sunshine is so rare, she�s starting slowly, so as to avoid attention. She�s wreaking a bit of havoc in office organization right now. And she�s in dire need of a logo/sign/costume. (hint hint)

And now I need to confess I was way more thrilled about the Franken radio thing in theory than in practice. Don�t get me wrong, I think it�s a valuable service to society, but for me personally, aside from tittering (oof!) over Al Franken, Al Gore and Michael Moore having an impromptu chat, I find that talk radio of any sort drives me mad. Must have music. All the time. Now it worked when I had Real Player playing Air America Radio and Windows Media Player playing music in the background. Yeah. But music wins out. Unless it�s This American Life, but I digress. I�m planning to avoid real news of any sort this weekend, but you should be aware of this contest.

And lest you think I�m too perky and have been possessed by a fiendishly happy devil, check out this article on the trend toward fiction writers accepting endorsements and using product placement in their books.

Sigh. We know there�s nothing sacred.

Happy hour�s coming right along. You know what you have to do.