xaara

Just finished watching Grease. I'd forgotten how hard that movie makes me laugh. The dancing is horrible, there's no plot to speak of, the acting sucks, the guys aren't even that nice-looking, and the whole thing is just a little bit ooky. But it does make me giggle, and so it's definitely worth watching millions of times.

Note to self: Do not ever, ever again plant Grandpa's tomato seeds. I don't know what the hell he did to those things, but they've gotten huge in the past week. They're pulling down the tomato cages and stakes; they're threatening to kill my bush beans; they're easily an inch thick at the base. I swear, these are monster mutant tomatoes sent by the Martians to eliminate life on earth. I've unleashed Armageddon. Dreadfully sorry.

Willow

R.

Renewal. Rejuvenation. Regeneration. Revitalization. Restoration. Restitution.

Resurrection.

Pretty words for pretty ideas. They fit into pretty sentences, condolences, prayers.

But when it comes down to it, the rebirth? Not so rebirthy. Just ask a newly risen vampire or a Slayer who's not going to rise.

Or the witch who's spending hours researching, trying to figure out what it takes to bring a person back from the dead in one piece.

Trying to figure out if she's got enough in her to do it.

Because let's face it, I want her back. We want her back.

We need her back.