why so quiet

October has been a brutal month. You've already read ad nauseam about our health woes over the last several weeks, which are fortunately behind us. And the rest of the relentless time suck came at the hands of my day job, which I try diligently not to post about here. So there you have it. October was a blur.

I can hardly believe it's November this week. We now have our airline tickets to Minnesota for Christmas -- a painful near $500 each. When you realize you can fly to Europe or the Caribbean for that price, it really hits home how much we consumers get gouged during peak travel periods. Of course, we have some other trips on the horizon, including a Vegas weekend in March to attend one of Rick's friend's weddings. That will be fun since he's never been to Sin City.

I'm also thrilled that my Fall line up is in full swing, and my Tivo is hard at work trying to keep up with The Bachelor, The Hills, The Office, soon-to-air The Amazing Race. Funny, I must have a propensity for shows that start with The. Nothing I look forward to more after coming home from work, than to sit my butt on the couch and click, click....click, click, while Rick plays his guitar upstairs. He plays music, I brain drain.

Been fixated on Facebook lately too. Much to Rick's chagrin, my nose is usually buried in a laptop finding old friends online. I really do need to detach from the cyberworld at some point.

Other than that, we took advantage of the beautiful weather this weekend and went for a long walk with Zoe and took the Harley out for a spin. Boy, my face was frozen after that.

Oh, and I guess the biggest update I've failed to mention was a family-related episode last week where my mother called me because she thought she found weed in my little brother's bedroom. Apparently they confronted him and he sold them a bag of goods, convincing them that he'd been set up by one of his friends. It's funny how parents believe what they want to believe. I guess it's the same reason why my mother keeps calling me asking me to go back to church. Good grief. How much time has to pass before she's going to let it go? Clearly eight years isn't long enough.