My dad got back from Vegas last night, where he was gambling and picking up hookers (or, as he would have us believe, taking a course to prepare for his recertification as an ER doctor this fall), and he and Mom and I had a depressing conversation over dinner last night about how George W. is going to blow us all up. I left the table feeling hopeless and full of fried fish.
Tomorrow morning I'm leaving the Wiregrass to go back to New Orleans, where I'll say my goodbyes and pack up the car, and then Adam and I will leave town on Tuesday morning, bright and early. Maybe even dark and early, if we're really industrious. We hope to make it to the Texas panhandle by Tuesday night.
Last chance to take advantage of the absolutely free postcard offer. Don't miss out--I write a mean postcard.
Design by Soapboxdiner, modified by Red Dirt Girl.
Copyright � 2002-2005.