Forgive my relative silence. I’ve been outrageously bland these last few days, finishing up my Junior Police Academy freelance work, code wrangling with hooping.org, and reading the new Harry Potter outloud with Andreas.

I am employed, housed, loved, tanned, and relatively contented.

Meanwhile, Susannah calls me to make surrepticious plans for our impending 10 year high school reunion. There is general grumbling that the event costs $50 and is happening at Seahawk’s Stadium Club Restaurant. One classmate muses, “yes, we should have thought about this ten years ago when we were electing our class officers [who are organizing the event, while the rest of us slackers kvetch], but they didn’t exactly run on a ‘bring the reunion to the new Seahawks Stadium’ platform or anything.” He has a point. That said, I am already scheming a web project about my former classmates.