Good
lord, it's almost Christmas and I haven't written for a month. Yikes.
So we're about to hit the road, which will take us from BFL to SMF
to PDX and back, which to say the least will be challenging with
a nine month old, but should be fun as plans include seeing I Am
Legend, eating more all you can eat sushi, and visiting Portland
for the first time in ten years to see whether or not it will be
a nice place to live someday. And I haven't booked any hotels yet.
Hi, I am high. We'll be sleeping on the street with the sad street
urchins.
So
instead of writing tonight, because I gotta feed my child some brussell
sprouts (he likes them and I'm not asking questions) and then we're
going down the street to a neighbor party, where in years past I
have learned things like a) my neighbor did lots of cocaine up until
2002, b) Gray likes to chat up seventeen year old girls and when
accused of it goes "I was not! What?" and c) the wine
runs out fast so I gotta get there early, I will leave you with
two holiday photos. One is our Christmas card, heads blurry to protect
the identity of the innocent (and look at those enormous thighs!).
The other is the boy on Santa's lap, not crying, asking Saint Nick
for a case of those Cheerio-like star-puff chemical finger foods
he loves so well. I guess it balances out the brussell sprouts so
I won't complain.
