I had a rather long post done up on how I'd just noticed how pointless my facebook is for the purpose it is designed to fulfill, but I couldn't quite figure out how to end it. Essentially, I've talked to like four of the people on there in the last year, two of whom I live with.

I've been blogging for an awfully long time. Sometimes I wonder what the guts of my filing cabinet would look like had I stuck to paper. Paper is nice because you can draw on it. Reading back through stuff I wrote as a kid, I think the doodles are more telling than the words.

I bought a house. It is a little box, on a hillside. I'm pretty sure it's not made of ticky-tacky, but ideally it will be full of weed? It was incredibly cheap and is virtually brand new. It's also only half a block from where I am now, which makes moving easy, and is about a block and a half from work. Two bedrooms, full bath and laundry, a whole 720 square feet for myself (and the cats, and Lisa). As I say, little box indeed. But with a great deck! I am still uncertain about having Lisa on the deed, as it's my money that paid for this place, but that can be dealt with if it should ever be a problem.

Close to work is nice. I am still walking. Until I go to rehab. For the one type of addiction I really don't feel will ever be a problem again. All because of a broom. Horrific irony.

I was sitting next to the crazy guy in DQ the other day whilst eating lunch. He was talking about having asked God for nice weather and getting it, then asking that it snow to punish people that were mean to him. As I'm the only person I ever see walking around in -30 late at night, I'm kinda wondering what I did to him.

Anyway, I am wrote out for now, dear blogger-y.