Have you heard?

"Have you heard of Africa? Bono invented it a few years ago." - Matt Wertz

That's witty.

A new baby for our best friends?

That's beauty. Congrats, dear Wetzels.

I think I'll go to Boston.

I think I'll start a new life.

I'll hand pick what I'll keep from this one . . . Beau. Ellie. Winnie the Pooh. Stitch. My handy dandy new computer. To Kill a Mockingbird. And the iPod I'm getting for my birthday. Let's just pretend I have it now.

Okay. Pack up, kids. We're going on a trip. To somewhere new. And this time we'll get it right. All on our own merit.

I'm glad I never lived next to the water, so I could never get used to the beach. And I'm glad I never grew up on a mountain, to figure out how high the world could reach . . . For some the world's a treasure to discover and your scenery should never stay the same. They're trading in their dreams for explanation, all in an attempt to entertain . . . The trick of love's to never let it find you. It's easy to get over missing out. I know the hows and whens, but now and then she's all I think about. I wonder how it feels to be famous. But wonder is as far as I will go. 'Cause I'd probably lose myself in all the pictures. And end up being someone I don't know. So it's probably best I stay in Indiana just dreaming of the world as it should be. Where every day is a battle to convince myself that I'm glad she never fell in love with me.

You're right, Jon. You're dead on. But he did fall in love with me, and so did She. So come on, dear family. Pack Pooh and Stitch, grab the computer, and make sure all your favorites are on the iPod. You and me and Harper Lee are going to head off on our own. It's a good life, but we have to leave it behind. We need to get out of Indiana, before we call it good enough.

See you tonight, Jon. You can be my muse. Or maybe my kick in the pants.

I'm not gonna drink that one.

There is a short girl dancing in my living room. She dances to even a few beats of music. She dances despite the fact that she is holding my unopened soda. It doesn't matter. She hears a few notes, and she dances.

She must know something I don't.

Loser Me.

I'm so lazy. The snow outside my window looks like rain. It's coming down that steadily. I blame the snain that's falling for my laziness. And I'm going on record stating that I prefer the winter we were having earlier this year.

What the heck is my problem? How am I not motivated?

Maybe I should just bag on the whole dream thing. It doesn't seem to be working out for me.