a gigantic, collective crossing of the fingers, for many reasons

Leave it to us to be going halfway across the country on the weirdest weekend in years around these parts. Death and despair and looting and rape in the South (if it's any consolation, they rescued Fats Domino . . .), gas prices at absurd levels (great time to be going on a road trip, guys), and closer to home, the kids on our street have been terribly obnoxious lately (DeAndre tried to run in our house while I was leaving last night and the older girl who came from who knows where and acts as the ringleader of the bunch was offended when I yelled at him for it). And on the way home from Roboto tonight we witnessed a car fire AT A GAS STATION (it was the only thing that kept us from a tank full of $2.99/gallon Shell), and then when I got home I read that soon-to-be birthday girl Hopper was in a car accident. UGH.

Hopefully all of these nasty omens do not actually bode so poorly for the weekend. It kind of seems like it's going to be an eerie weekend regardless, even if things go pretty well for us. Chicago, Minneapolis, turn out in force to see me, please, and make this worthwhile. I will give you big city-hugs, I promise.