The semester from hell being over (FINALLY), we are commencing de-stressing procedures by hopping on a plane to Seattle. Back in a week.
Mail-sorting conversation at our house…
Me, upon finding yet another stack of unopened mail on the dining room table: NOOOOO!
Michael: I found a Playboy offer in mine.
Me: Why don’t I get Playboy offers? All my offers are from Publishers Weekly and book clubs.
Michael: That’s because you know how to read.
i don’t know if it’s because we’re both really sick or because it’s just that funny, but we can’t stop laughing. heehee!
oh, and we want to know if you’re going there because Wil Wheaton is there this week. (Nick thinks Michael ought to be worried, if that’s the case.)
bwahaha.
No, and in fact I didn’t find out about that convention until late last night. I probably would have gone, otherwise.
We just had lunch at the Science Fiction Museum… photos in a moment.
… pictures.