In Other News

I'm back at home, and Laura is some hours gone flying back to Denver.  It was nice to see her off at the airport with a smile on her face this time mind you, but now I am faced once again with the apparently insurmountable task of clearing space in the garage for when she eventually returns with a truck bursting to the seams with cats, mountaineering gear, couches, marshmallow mattresses, purple lanterns, and Wonder Woman paraphernalia (not necessarily in that order).  We've got to unload that stuff somewhere, and if I haven't gotten my piles of old couches, futon mattresses, mountaineering gear, kerosene lanterns, and Asterix & Obelix comics (not necessarily in that order) out of the way in time, then it will all go into a heap in my living room where the cats will be regularly scaling it and using the great height to mount aerial assaults.

So really, I should stop watching old episodes of "Battlestar Galactica," and get my ass out there to the garage.  Seriously.

In other news, I crippled* my Facebook account, for real.  One final wall post, all the others deleted, and new posts disabled.  The irony of it is that my final post is that it was "Martian has decided to return to a simpler time of one-on-one, personalized contact."  Like blogging**, for example.  Haha!

*(Why just "cripple," you ask?  Why not just delete it?  Okay, embarrassing admission: I play some Facebook games when nobody is looking.)

**(Seriously, though, I think a blog community is somehow more intimate than the weirdly impersonal amalgam of updates from acquaintances who are years removed.  All the people I want to follow I call or email, or they call or email me -- and there is no audience for our connection.  I guess I just don't play well in groups; the teacher would probably write a stern warning to my parents, were I in primary school today.)