Back at last

After a solid month of almost-non-stop travel I'm finally back at home. This "quaint sea-side village" (as Paul likes to call it) is beginning to resemble its Welsh namesake with the torrential downpours over the past few days. It gets confusing when you're in southern California with 3 British people, and they're saying things like, "it's absolutely chucking it down outside."

The other night we had quite the "storm." (Any weather condition that isn't sunny is referred to as a "storm" out here - quite funny.) The wind was really blowing so Paul got up to bring in the broom and bucket I had left outside. At the same time I heard the paper shredder start whirring. I started to get up to ask Paul what the hell he was shredding at 3 in the morning when I realized the power was flicking on and off - the newest bundle of joy in out house, the 40" HDTV - doing its little "blublublupa!" "blublubluha" greeting and closure on and off with the shredder.

And so today it's back to work. I refuse to turn on the TV for fear of catching coverage of "clusterfuck to the White House '08." If I hear anything remotely sounding like a discourse on the word "change" I'm going to go all Oedipus Rex and poke sharp objects into my eyeballs. The sharpest piece of commentary I've heard on the primary's came from Best Week Ever, when a guy said, "Hillary's crying cause some Negro is trying to steal her job." That about sums up the race right now.

In an effort to stay focused Paul suggested I divide up my day into 15 minute units, like Hugh Grant's character in About a Boy. Breakfast - 1 unit. Shower - 2 units. I've allocated 8 units to reading and 8 to writing. Time to get cracking, my blogging units are up.