Wreckless Wrider

I went for a ride with my friend, Art, last night. It was a heartbreakingly beautiful evening, although that may just be the generic Zoloft talking. As I'm sure you surmised from the title of this post we made it home safely. By the way, it's kind of a secret, but Art and his family are moving to Seattle. It's official; I will have to be cremated since I'm pretty sure I don't have anywhere near enough friends to carry a coffin, although as Chris Rock said after the Columbine shootings,

The Trenchcoat Mafia.
No one will play with us.'We have no friends.
We're the Trenchcoat Mafia.''
Hey, I saw the yearbook pictures.
It was six of them.
I didn't have six friends in high school.
I don't got six friends now.

So, I guess nothing's changed.

Today we spent 3 hours in the emergency room with Leah. She's vertiginous if that means suffering from vertigo, or if it means green, for that matter. They gave her some fluids and meds via IV and sent her reeling home. People complain about hospitals sometimes, but it was sort of pleasant. I had brought a book so I got a lot of reading done. I was doing the same as before we went to the hospital, but, hey, no guilt about the chores I wasn't doing.