GlumBum

I was precipitate in assuming that my daughter had gotten over being dissed by her activity's supervisor. She's apparently still as raw as a new sunburn. My attempt to sympathize was vigorously and almost viciously rejected. It takes a lot for me to become enraged at her, but she managed it nicely. I have to remember that I'm the adult.

Reading articles about travel experiences. I dread the next time that we go to Tucson -- not because of the destination, per se, but because the airline flight experience sounds so incredibly awful. I am actually willing to think about the cost of chartering a plane to do it -- though I am sure, as I am with other spending opportunities, that I'd back off when presented with the potential bill, from this temporal distance it almost sounds worth it. Airlines sound wretched. Wretched.

I am reading a piece of fan fiction with a surprising blend -- House, MD meets Nero Wolfe. Though not great, it's surprisingly good. Well above the standard for most fan fiction. I understand that Rex Stout, the creator of Nero Wolfe, disliked when people would adopt his character for their own novels; I'm sure he wouldn't like this one, either. Too bad. For me, I'm glad to have found it.

We still have ants in the damn kitchen. I swear that they come in waves. There is little more distressing than looking down into your cereal and seeing an ant doing the back peddle.