ah, Labor Day. a celebration of the working class and its toils. neil and i both have the day off. we're baking barbecued chicken and are going to have mustard potato salad alongside for lunch. it's our attempt to become more domestic
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I don't think I want to fly again for a while, after flying to Syracuse twice in one week. I'm tired of always being the one searched and having my purse swabbed for explosives. I wonder if Amtrack goes from here to there or Greyhound. One day we'll have sheetrock in the guest room and you can visit us! Maybe we should just get a sleeper sofa for the living room. I still have a pile of stuff to mail to you, but my life has become all Z'otz, all the time. Anyway, we miss you guys!
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I have your birthday and Christmas gifts already. One of them involves a combination of Sanrio and cheese. Make what you will of it!
We miss you as well, as always. You and Michael are always in our thoughts, and I can't even begin to count how many times I've seen something totally bizarre in only a way that you and I could appreciate and thought, "man, I wish Suzanne was here." Situations like that usually involve mullets, transvestism, running towards breakfast meats, or a combination thereof.
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