If it's August on the Internet, it must be slower than Rosie O'Donnell eating a vegetable. Few emails, few blogs, fewer comments. Not that I'm blameless, of course. With my work schedule and lack of Internet at work, I rarely get to check others' sites as much as I used to, and find it very difficult to find time to blog. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Will that all change when we when the $300 million Powerball tonight? Or will I blow it all on baseball cards and "COPS" DVDs? Time will tell. If I brag about my collection of Tim Naehring and Scott Fletcher Red Sox rookie cards, you'll know.
So what's new? Nada. Val and I are still house hunting, and aside from my manager getting "suspended," a.k.a. impendingly canned, the job's the same. Val did cut back to part time so that she only has to work at the Bartlett campus. The Lamar campus was driving her batty, and I surely don't mind not having to worry about her driving out there two or three times a week.
Let's just say I was only a week away from fitting her car with a flamethrower and missiles. Not that she was truly in danger from anyone other than "ladies of the night," but every time I'd tell a Memphian she worked on Lamar, they'd go, "Ooh, wow, yeah, good luck with that."
The past three weeks we've finally gotten out of bed on Sunday mornings and started going to church. In fact, we've been attending First Baptist Millington, a.k.a. "Where Valfrey Got Hitched." Aside from our ceremony, I had never actually been to a service there. I like it. Bro. Ray has fire to his sermons. I'm surprised he hasn't busted a blood vessel in his forehead by now. Not that's he's condemning unbelievers with brimstone; he's more prone to criticizing believers who don't practice what they learn Sunday mornings. Like, um, me.
Did I mention we stayed in Tunica last night?
We weren't alone, at least. We bought tickets for the Meat Loaf concert at Grand Casino for my father-in-law, who went with sis-in-law, Cheryl and her hubby, Randy. Val and I just kind of tagged along. Because, uh, we wouldn't normally go on our own. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*
They went to rock, we went to lose hard-earned dough. Val and I didn't bring as much to gamble as usual, and hit some good pots along the way but came out under as always. At least I hit twice on my lucky number 17 at the roulette table at Bally's this morning, so that kept me in the game for a while. Val doesn't enjoy seeing our money flushed down the drain as much, so she did a lot of watching me do so. We stayed at Fitzgerald's, which doesn't have jacuzzi suites that we're used to, yet we managed a good night's sleep anyhow. I know, we're so spoiled.
As summer begins to wind down even as it stays over 90 degrees until October, I'll try to be a better blog steward. And try to visit others' blogs more often. Or at least I'll continue to make snippy comments about you and wail about the first-place Red Sox. It's a guarantee I can confidently post!