Dehydration

It's weird, not blogging. I tell myself to get to blogging. To write.

The easiest thing in the world to do is not write, you know.

But I am writing. And "directing" the Magic Show. But that doesn't count. My family doesn't really give a damn if I make a great joke that geeks love--that doesn't tell them how Annie or Abby are doing, where we're at as a fam, etc.

So here I am, writing to you guys. I've got a family update for later tonight--it's on my machine at home.

To put this into perspective, this time last year I was wrapping up my Woodstock Story, one of my favorite pieces ever written. Even if most of my friends were pretty tired of it by the time it ended.

I needed to write it completely, fully, and unhindered. It's my honest, actual account of what has been maligned into many horrible things. A riot topping off the festivities was certainly the catalyst for this thinking. But I hope that my story of hardship and triumph (and newfound friends) gave a bit of a shine to the silver lining that was practically the debacle of 1999.

Annie went to see a movie today, Charlotte's Web, with her mother and sister. This is thanks to the Smoothocity of my new Plymouth Reliant K.

Didn't I mention I got a new car? The term new is relative here, but I'm pretty happy with it. A 1988 Plymouth Reliant K that shimmies when you brake, needs an oil change desperately, could use some new tires and perhaps a "tune up" in all senses of the term.

But it gets me where I'm going and gives Ericka a car to drive around. Best $600 I ever spent. Or, well, part of it. I still owe my awesome Dad for most of it.

Speaking of owing money, Abby's hospital bill arrived from her bout with staph from last month.

Let's just say it's not pretty. Horrifying, in fact.

Anyway, I'll wrap this up. No time for love, Dr. Jones. Just the straight dope. As it were. And stuff.

No one ever had much nice to say
I think they never liked you anyway