Congratulations on changing your life!

We have moved. Our lying-suing-non-sewage-repairing landlord be damned. There is absolutely no more square footage in this house than the last one, but somehow we have so much more room. So yes, you can come by and visit with all your wild friends if you drop me an email, and there won't even be any poop in the bathtub.

We have central heat and air. This means two things. I can return to shutting my door at night (without burning in hell), thus keeping my long held insecurity in tact. Also, it means I need not run a series of thirty-seven box fans to propel our single jet of cool air from the living room to my bed. No box fans = no white noise. No white noise = uncomfortable ginger. I have one fan running in the room right now pointed uselessly away from me at the wall so I don't freeze. On talk radio people want to know about levels of consciousness. I really do listen to talk radio 24 hours a day. Whoa, now tomatoes are have come up. How do you jump topically from levels of consciousness to tomatoes in the time it takes me to write two sentences? Well, here's how: ginger writes too slowly.

It's nearly impossible for me to come back on this page after two weeks and give you the highlights because my life just has too many damn highlights. The show that I had been worried about having a low turn out at because of summer heat blew up regardless of my sweating it. Lots of money was made for bands, lots of bands played, lots of food was eaten, there was a continuous 2 and a half day party at my house, and our plumbing got jealous. Here's a snapshot. There's a large blue tent pitched in our front yard facing the busiest residential road in Clevesburg. The plastic pirate pool is inflated and filled, and Ryan sprays people with the "canon" while Ted has his shirt off repairing the "Ramen Cab" with beer in hand. Around 18 people are sitting on the front lawn eating chili. One of them has devil horns on.

We had to deal with the tub backing up for the last time the night of the party. Kay and I run in the bathroom to pull back the shower curtain, then simultaneously begin gagging and laughing uncontrolably. Do you remember that WWII poster promoting women workers with the buff lady clutching a wrench? Molly the Rivetor or something similar? That was Kay, only with a plunger and tissue.

We found this cat. We're going to name it Mercedes. It has absolutely no connection to the band name except that it was taken completely from the band name.

We have moved. Our lying-suing-non-sewage-repairing landlord be damned. There is absolutely no more square footage in this house than the last one, but somehow we have so much more room. So yes, you can come by and visit with all your wild friends if you drop me an email, and there won't even be any poop in the bathtub. We have central heat and air. This means two things. I can return to shutting my door at night (without burning in hell), thus keeping my long held insecurity in tact. Also, it means I need not run a series of thirty-seven box fans to propel our single jet of cool air from the living room to my bed. No box fans = no white noise. No white noise = uncomfortable ginger. I have one fan running in the room right now pointed uselessly away from me at the wall so I don't freeze. On talk radio people want to know about levels of consciousness. I really do listen to talk radio 24 hours a day. Whoa, now tomatoes are have come up. How do you jump topically from levels of consciousness to tomatoes in the time it takes me to write two sentences? Well, here's how: ginger writes too slowly. It's nearly impossible for me to come back on this page after two weeks and give you the highlights because my life just has too many damn highlights. The show that I had been worried about having a low turn out at because of summer heat blew up regardless of my sweating it. Lots of money was made for bands, lots of bands played, lots of food was eaten, there was a continuous 2 and a half day party at my house, and our plumbing got jealous. Here's a snapshot. There's a large blue tent pitched in our front yard facing the busiest residential road in Clevesburg. The plastic pirate pool is inflated and filled, and Ryan sprays people with the "canon" while Ted has his shirt off repairing the "Ramen Cab" with beer in hand. Around 18 people are sitting on the front lawn eating chili. One of them has devil horns on. We had to deal with the tub backing up for the last time the night of the party. Kay and I run in the bathroom to pull back the shower curtain, then simultaneously begin gagging and laughing uncontrolably. Do you remember that WWII poster promoting women workers with the buff lady clutching a wrench? Molly the Rivetor or something similar? That was Kay, only with a plunger and tissue. We found this cat. We're going to name it Mercedes. It has absolutely no connection to the band name except that it was taken completely from the band name.
My AIM changed to gingermissippy for now. ginger@mosquitoinc.org