sj, send them a change of address form! That's what I did, to route their mail back to my mom's house. It worked for a few years, then they found me again.

I started getting this because when Mom sold her house last year, she sent in a change of address form to the post office for me; if I tried to send them back to Mom's current address, I don't think stepdad would be happy about it.

I finally sat down to work on some much avoided financial paperwork today and got so overwhelmed, I'm now watching an episode of the West Wing.

In Season 1 Episode 22, President Bartlet is planning to watch a women's softball game...one of the teams mentioned is my undergrad alma mater.

1) How did such an obscure school get that kind of notice?

2) Why do I feel compelled to share this with you?

See above: overwhelm, I guess.

1) How did such an obscure school get that kind of notice?

Somebody in the writer's room went there.

Heh. No doubt.

University of the Pacific, represent.

I say this with zero filial loyalty. Yet, hey, familiar.

I was supposed to go to a wake tonight, but I have been ordered by my family not to go because apparently my hometown is a big mess that has not been plowed sufficiently. The plan was to grab dinner with my family after the wake. So, instead of cooking, I am cashing in a Christmas gift from TCG which was an IOU for dinner and a margarita at our local Mexican restaurant.

I just took a look at the new dogs listed on the shelter website. One of them is a 115-pound Mastiff who is afraid of other dogs. I think this is practically the definition of "not the dog for me."

You could saddle that thing up and save money on gas.

You could saddle that thing up and save money on gas.

In my experience, large dogs provide their own gas. A lot of it.

You could saddle that thing up and save money on gas.

seriously.

Hil could saddle AND bottle. This could be a whole side gig!

Today took the niece to see Yo Gabba Gabba live. I would reccomend it, very fun show. We got lost getting there (street signs, people, GET SOME) and as we pulled up my poor niece (almost 3) barfed. And barfed. Aaaaaand barfed.

Mom and I check the diaper bag, no change of clothes. Check the back back... no clothes, but a gallon bottle of water and paper towels. SCORE! So I go tell the niece, "You're going to be cold for a minute, but well be as quick as we can. Think about if you want to go home or go to the show. If you get sick again at the show, we can still go home." My logic being that if she was sick sick she'd want to go home whereas if she was just car sick she'd want to wait until we got back in the car. Then we stripped her, rinsed her, and put my hoodies on her as clothes. So McGuyver!

She said she wanted to stay. We go to will call, get the tickets, send in Mom and kid. I go back to car to park it legally. Mom and kid hit merch table and buy her a "dress". I get in finally and spend the bulk of the show cheerfully chasing my now-lively (yep, it was just car sick) niece up and down aisles, niece clad only in a long t-shirt, boots, a diaper, and her hat. It is CLEAR that she's in a shirt and diaper. Oh, and she's hugely tall... the LOOKS I got! I wanted to shout to everyone "Car sick! She's only two!" It was hysterical.