A STUCCOED PIECE OF THE AMERICAN DREAM

Here's a shocker about home ownership -- it took a full three weeks after signing the papers for a buyout program to be announced at work.

Then the local homeowner association's Office of Homeland Security and Stucco(tm) sent us a threatening letter because the back of our courtyard gate, which you can't see because it's always open--and even if it was closed you still couldn't see from anywhere except inside our own house--doesn't match the color of the wood trim on the house proper.

Forgive us, I wanted to say, for we are but simple people from the hills and hollers of Arlington County. We'll rectify the situation as soon as we find a stain that matches our aforementioned chosen paint color of Cracked-n-Peeling Muave(tm).

But that would be wrong.

SO LONG, ----WAY

If it's been a while since I've updated this site, at least I have a good excuse for a change: We moved. And stuff.

Yep, somehow we're now homeowners. There are what a real estate agent would call some nice "features" to the place, though. Here's our lake view. Squint a little, and maybe the water will come into focus (hint: it's browner than the tree branches that obscure it).

This is a sample of the wallpaper in the guest bathroom. If you think it looks bad as a 175x210 JPEG, imagine being completely surrounded by it in a confined space... the walls, the back of the door and even the ceiling. It's pretty much the opposite of a Skinner box -- you sit in the room and feel your brain start to overheat from the extreme stimuli. If I was a soccer hooligan, I would lock myself in here every gameday morning to work myself into a proper rage before heading off to the stadium.

But the saddest part of all, Dear Reader, is that our much-beloved, love-to-hate neighborhood grocery store, the Bizarro ----way, is now in another ZIP Code -- another county, even. Of course, we can always go back to visit (and we will). As John Cusack said in the movie Grosse Point Blank, you can't go home -- but you can shop there.