I'm leaving on a jet plane. Er, no, wait, that sounded cool in a lyrical sort of way, but I'm actually driving to Thousand Oaks (hour north of Los Angeles) this morning at 1100 hours... with The Ruler of All Men, aka Nonstop Chatterbox. It should be interesting.I'll visit my parents, and I'll see how long they can go without asking me about why I don't have a job yet. I love them. They mean well. But they don't understand.

I'll be spoiled (foodwise and otherwise) and enjoy hanging out with my folks and then on Saturday I'll drive up to LA to attend at least some of the events of likely the world's largest and craziest swing dance exchange around. Big bands, big crowds, big talent, big parties. But since I don't drink much, at least it won't include a big hangover.

Then on Monday (which, yeah, I know, is technically NEXT week... so sue me!), I'll be doing jury duty. Or not. It depends on the local court jester, er, court official who reads my blissfully brief (and a bit belated) begging for a postponement. When you're broke and looking for love, er, looking for lovely employment, $15 a day serving on a jury (which, with my luck, would be about some boring municipal building code violation) just doesn't cut it.

I may or may not have a chance to update this blog until then. I'm sure you'll miss me, and if you won't, well, for goodness sake, could you at least pretend?!

Thanks.

Now I'm off to bed so I can get at least a couple of hours of shuteye before I oversleep my alarm clock and scurry to pack everything (and forget part of everything) before frantically heading out.

Goodnight moon. Goodnight sun.

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