That poor Delroy Lee

I move out The Day After Tommorrow

starring Dennis Quaid!
"I promise, I will save you from the frozen wastes of New York City and then help you move in with your four-cup coffeemaker and your tiny, tiny microwave!"

I still haven't packed most of my clothes.... I've been "doing laundry" today (my use of quotes should alert you to the fact that I'm actually kind of lying) but there's still quite a bit to do and I'm starting to feel the pressure. If you know me, then you know that I have a hard time with controlling anxiety, but I've been trying to keep busy enough--or at least distracted enough--that I don't spontaneously burst into flame, or worse, spontaneously burst into tears.

Of course, the tears might prove to be helpful in the end, considering the potential for spontaneous combustion.

In other news (literally) I read an interesting newspaper article today... When I was growing up in southern Illinois, I spent a few years at a small town called Mt. Carmel. We still have the Mt. Carmel paper delivered to us because we know just about everyone who ends up in it and we like to keep up with them. Today I was reading last Monday's edition of that paper and I found a slew of hilarious pictures where some idiot had, beyond all shades of reason and conceivability, driven her brand new 2006 Hummer over a ditch, up a sharp incline, through a chain fence, and straight into the heart of the city pool, colliding with the huge concrete fountain in the center of the circular pool proper.

I know sometimes I like to poke at some of the sorts of people who inhabit the South, the ones who put up the confederate flag, the thirty-something grandmothers in their denim cutoffs and belly-bearing halter tops, the God-fearing evolution-phobics, the guy in the broken-strap-overalls that they always find to interview on the local news--you know the one, the "An' then the dawg growed too-welve legs an' grabbed up Delroy Lee wif his lazey beam eyes" guy-- but you have to understand that the first town I lived in (a smattering of houses surrounded on three sides by cornfields and on the fourth side by a river) wasn't even large enough for a stoplight or a gas station, that the nearest Walmart was ten miles into Indiana and it was just a regular old non-super Walmart, and I'm only laughing and teasing like I do because I probably know someone in another part of the country who has done something even more absurd, and that I still get a town paper where the Hummer driven into the city pool is pushed to the second page so that the quilt festival can be on the front.