Skeet should call me

I repeat, Skeet should contact me . So should Cairy and Virgil. I couldn't find you in Nashville; my phonebook was not with me on this past trip. You can also leave a comment in the guestbook.

I have returned, oh gods and godesses of the internet. I had adventures, some of which I plan to write about later in this post and other posts.

I will never go on a vacation that long ever again. I missed y'all. I missed the quiet glow and hum of my computer chugging away into the night. I missed the ability to type out my thoughts as they itch under my fingernails. I had trouble sleeping some nights. I had a nightmare my final night away, and in this nightmare Atlanta was under attack by enemy jet fighters of some kind, but when our jet fighters shot them down they crashed into tall buildings and caused more damage. And no cell phones worked and I had to start walking from Midtown back to Inman Park by myself, with all the fire and mayhem and looting. And then there were these beasts - giant weasles with curiously flat heads and intelligent eyes, running around eating people's garbage. Some of the weasles were wearing sweaters.

But other than that, my honeymoon and holiday break went fairly well.

But I was homesick for the city. I love it here. I never want to live anywhere else.