Monsoon

Ahhh the weekend, so many things to talk about. Shall I discuss the monsoon that we had? All I have to say is that I'm pleased I live on the 3rd floor- I never have to worry about flooding.

Sadly, big brother does... and he had a 36 hour Shopvac marathon to address the flooding in his basement. All your work will not go to waste, big brother, I am planning on entering your feat into the Guinness Book of World Records. You can live knowing that you have made your mark on the world.

The upside of the flooding is that I got to take sis-in-law and BD to the airport, not only exhibiting my extensive knowledge of the back roads around O'Hare (all that smuggling is paying off (and not just with the large sums of cash I receive), I also got to drive their Acura... a far cry from the Vomit Comet (my 97 Elantra, I love you baby, never stop working). Turns out some cars brake really easily, so I looked like a 16 year old driving dad's car.

I could also discuss the musical I saw with pseudograndma, who, at 83 years old can't hear a thing, even though we sit in the fourth row. She gets a nap, I catch a good show. I saw Caroline, or Change, by Tony Kushner. Beautiful piece of work, although it is somewhat self-indulgent and about half an hour too long. I can sit still for DAYS, so it's not a good sign when I begin to fidget.

Perhaps the best thing I can do today is give some advice. Never, dear readers, suggest to your mother that it may be a good idea for her to see a therapist... no matter how good your intentions.

However, doing so does help end a phone call fairly quickly.