Alllllllmooooooost.

So, so close. Last week the Toyota was finally towed away from the front of our house headed toward its final resting place. I'm supposed to receive a call tomorrow from an inspector who will tell me how much my insurance company thinks my car is worth. God knows I'm going to get screwed over, but, as every sympathetic person has told me, At least I didn't get hurt. I suppose that's all a matter of perspective, though, isn't it?

This evening my comics teacher wrote on the left side of the chalkboard: SET UP.
On the far right side she wrote: PUNCH LINE.
And in between the two she wrote: SHIT HAPPENS.

In addition to the twins, my employer has a daughter, Emily, who is six months or so older than me. She lives in Australia for half of each year and is in Portland for the next few weeks. I told her about my trip plans and she offered to travel a bit with me on the South Island of NZ and then hook me up with places to stay in Australia. That sounds good, aside from the fact that I think she might be a little bit crazy. And she doesn't get my sense of humor at all.

At all.

We have these conversations where she tells an interesting story, then I make an amusing comment, and she says, "What?" Then I explain that I was just making a joke and tell her why I thought it was funny. She still doesn't get it. My time in Australia may just be a series of aborted jokes and blistering sunburns.