Well, I haven’t been around for a while, have I? Sorry about that. Not sick or bored, just busy and STILL HAVING COMPUTER PROBLEMS.
NOT THAT I AM ANGRY OR ANYTHING.
Also, it’s hard to concentrate lately. Life is one big series of to-do lists and phone calls, complicated by our whack-ass weather of late, which can best be described as: Whack-ass. Snowstorm before Christmas, temperature drops to zero, temperature soars to 60, everything melts. (This is all in about five days.) Then it starts raining, temperature drops, ice, snow, more rain, and now it’s back at 60. Forecast for tomorrow: in the teens. The back yard is a swamp, the river’s risin’, and if we had a hill for mud to slide down, I’m sure it’d be happening.
By the way, sorry to hear about your problems, Californians.
Although, I have to say, I’m sure Armstrong Williams would be happy to have a real mudslide fall on his head at the moment, given the mess caused by the rhetorical one. I admit, when I heard this p.o.s. had collected a cool $240K from the damn government for writing columns, my first thought was, “And to think, in nearly 20 years, the best I got was an occasional lunch.” And you know what? Many reporters, and many columnists, are happy to lick the boots of the powerful for far less than even that. I’d say the Bush administration overpaid, at the same time I’m imagining at least a dozen shoes dangling on toes, waiting to drop. I have my own ideas about who’s got a seee-cret, but for now, The Poor Man has a very entertaining betting pool going. I’m going under on Dinesh D’Souza.
Why I’m glad this idiot will no longer be my congressman, in 16 days.
A mover came today, the second, to look at all our stuff and figure out what it’ll cost to move it. I think we’ve kept our life fairly lean and mean, but we’re a family and dammit, we have stuff. “Is someone in the house a D.J.?” she said, looking at our modest row (OK, six feet) of LPs. Talk about guilt — you find yourself begrudging every book, every CD, every object, and it’s not like I have a collection of Hummels, for God’s sake.
Tell me some moving horror stories. Make me feel better.
P.S. I’m watching J.C. Burns’ sister, Leslie, on “Jeopardy!” and apparently she isn’t blogging about it. With Final Jeopardy still ahead, I suspect I know why.