Some people have lately been asking me about my name. Well, I think I’ll tell you, because it’s better than eating pizza: “Katie” means one who Ks, as in “that Donald Regan, when he was in the gubment, he was such a Katie—I mean, did you see his socks?” I personally am not a Katie, except that’s my name, but I do like the fashion. Toft means “hillock.” Really, it does, you can look it up . . . I guess this means that I often K on the hillocks, though that’s not really true. I don’t ever go to the mountains, except when I fly over them, but usually I’m listening to Ani and Tori and reading Clive and thinking about Charles, so I don’t look at the hillocks. Or think about my name. I don’t know what K-ing is, by the way, except that Katies have good socks. Did you ever see Donald Regan’s?

Ok, tally-ho, cheers. I’m going to eat some sushi and watch Buffy and order room service.

Kisses,
Katie