Now We're Really Homeless

A while back I mentioned we'd sold the condo. Well, we closed on it Wednesday, but are still about two weeks or so out from moving in to the new place. Thus, we are now tenants at Casa Ma and Pa Stephens. They are rarely if ever home so we've had the run of the place for the last week. They also have cable, which Laurie and I did not have the entire time we lived in the condo, so I've been drinking deeply at the well of TCM and the Military Channel. Laurie's been feasting on HGTV which, in my book, qualifies as harmful television. When I watch the Military Channel I know I'll never be able to afford an F-18. HGTV, on the other hand, makes everything they do look entirely too possible. Do they make a V-chip for potentially costly TV programs? You know, nothing that blocks it entirely, but only when the cost for the work being shown gets above a certain dollar amount.

This weekend we're up at Laurie's folks for the baptism of our infant niece, Isabella (aka Ella). I only bring this up because everytime I stay here I have strange dreams. I don't know if it's the bed we sleep on or what, but they're always interesting. Last night, I dreamt that I was tapped for a role in an upcoming feature film because on my experience in community theater. I was invited to a first day rehearsal breakfast where I was to meet my costars. When I walk into the restaraunt I am introduced to Danny Devito and Clint Eastwood. I remember thinking to myself in the dream, "What kind of movie is this going to be? A comedy or another boxing drama?" I was also very concerned about who I approached first for fear of offending the other. I remember coming to the conclusion that the safe bet was to approach Eastwood first. For some reason in the dream I had a memory of sharing cigars and drinks with Devito and I reminded him of this. Then they handed out scripts and that's all I remember. I didn't even get to see what the movie was going to be about.

By the way, since we are homeless, about the only times I'll be able to check my home e-mail or post is when we have access to someone else's internet service. Mom and dad have glacially slow dial up and The Fist is preventing me from getting to my e-mail account at work. So, if you happen to reply to a post or try to reach me via e-mail and I don't respond right away, you'll know why.