The dog won't play any more tennis ball goalie game with me which means I have to go back to constructing furniture for my mom's new house in San Diego.  I used to think that I'm very good at putting together this flatpack shiz (y'know following directions that require no reading knowledge, counting out my dowels beforehand, etc.) but I guess I've just been spoiled by IKEA.  I mean, my mom should be very thankful she's got a working drawer on her light cherry finish, craftsman-style three-shelf-plus-drawer unit thingy here.  It was looking pretty hairy for a while there between step 8 and 9.

Also, I hung up a picture today. [1]

I'm pleased as a peach to be back in Cali.  It finally stopped raining and warmed up here in SD.  Hopefully there rest of the week the weather will behave.  Christmas is going to be strange enough this year.  I don't particularly want to be trapped inside with the Crazies. [2]

Hungry now.  Ego wants some crackers!

Endnotes:

[1] This is kind of a special picture.  It is supposedly a signed print by Salvador Dali.  Now, it is signed by Dali but a lengthy federal investigation has apparently revealed that the print itself was of artwork that Dali had not created.  A little embarrassing for the estate, and the museum involved in the scheme, but whatever.  Surrealists... you can't live with them, and you can't cover their faces with bugs and expect them to care...  Anyway, when I was very little and Dali was still alive I wrote a letter to him thanking him for the fraudulent painting and included a picture of my own with butterflies on it I think.  My mom sent it to the Royal Hawaiian or whatever museum was in charge of his estate.  And they sent it to him!  And he wrote me back!  And he sent me a big, signed coffee table book of his paintings.  So that's neat.

[2] The Crazies are my mom's australian shepherds, Lance and Bo (whom I call Bobo the Chimp when outside my mom's earshot).  They race around the house, ricocheting off of everything.  And if I have any food they sit right next to me like bobble-head dolls and pant until I yell at them to go away.  And Lance's tail was docked incorrectly so its a few links too long.  This means that if he's wagging his tail near you it feels like somebody is scratching you with their index finger which makes me want to shriek.  Most dogs I like but these are neutral in my book.