*blink*

One good thing about Eightball visiting - it allayed some of my worries.  He does claim to have a retirement account with this job (yes, my little brother's financial future, another thing for me to worry about which eor pointed out to me), and he hasn't given up drinking, after all. 

(Saturday the 8th, this conversation took place in the convenience store at the foot of our street, while we were waiting with eor and cyberquail to buy wine...)

Me: "But you said alcohol was a poison!"
Eightball: "That doesn't mean I'm going to choose to stop poisoning myself!  You jump to conclusions."

We did also learn that he's still married, and she works at one of their schools on the other side of the Bay from where he works so that they can live together.  Although whether they also still live with others I really can't tell.  I also don't see kids in his future.

We got drunk and sat on the kitchen floor and he showed us some of the exercises he teaches at the school.:) 

I'm trying to get to a few of the things I've been putting off, but having time (and my computer) to myself is making me giddy. 

I just began going back and compiling a few entries into an email for LooksToAlaska and realized how spotty they are.  I should re-write some, or... something.  Write a big entry that explains things?  Add edits?  What would you do? 

Right now, food.  Tea.  Paying my bills!  Eep! 

whee! :)

My Uncle, Don Jimcito, just phoned to see if I knew why my Mom hasn't alighted from a bus in Portsmouth, where he's been awaiting her - and then he called back to say that she'd actually been hiding in the back of the coffee shop where the bus dumps people.  In response to my saying that it was perfectly fine for him to bother me with phone calls, as I wish I talked with him more often, he said that he is often traveling down from Winthrop through Portland on Sunday mornings and would like to do brunch with eor and myself sometime soonish, as his wife is soon to be traveling back to Columbia for work and he needs something to occupy his days. :)

Well, first of all he did a little flattery with "Don't let me think you're so desperate as to want to talk to an old accountant.  I depend on you and Eor to be the happening people in my life!"  Yeah, right - he's the one who's always jetsetting back and forth to South American countries. :)) 

You know the odd thing?  Most people in Maine immediately ask me if he's a drug dealer, because he lives half the year in Columbia.  I can't imagine a person less likely to be a drug dealer.  He was well-enough off long before he started going down there, and we know he made his money by working his ass off building up an accounting firm and then selling it off.  (And he still works for them, even on weekends when he's in the area.)