It's always nice to come back home to discover nothing worse has happened in your absence than a knocked over pile of books or two.

As opposed to the time my family came back from Christmas vacation at my Granny's and found the back sliding door wrenched open and the VCR missing. With the tape we had set to tape The Silver Chair on PBS in it. Plus we all had to go to the bathroom (multi-hour car trip and all) yet my mother was like "DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING! THE POLICE WILL WANT TO DUST FOR FINGERPRINTS!"

On the toilet seat. Of course.

The best part about hotel rooms with automated sliding curtains is that sometimes the switch is binary, and when you think you have to click it one more position to turn it off after it is done closing, you are acutally clicking it back on to the 'open' position. And then the curtain slides open say a foot before you notice what is happening, and there your companion stands, perfectly silloutted in front of the window, pulling his pants down. Just like Mr. Bean or something.

And you would think that when you've found a new restaurant with a lovely and varied menu, you could settle back and enjoy dinner without people getting sick all over the place and accusing the manager of trying to poison them. But you'd be wrong

I discovered at a party last night that some people think it is normal behavior not only to pick up a handmade fraternity sweatshirt that they find laying in the gutter, but to launder it to remove the ring of vomit encrusting its collar, and then wear it out on the town and tell people deadpan the story of where it came from, paying particular attention to the theme of how little it smells, considering where it has been.

I'm teaching myself HTML, mostly by the 'monkeys typing out Shakespearean sonnets at random over a period of millennia' method. So if everything disappears all of a sudden, that's why.