My new blog looks like chocolate. This is unfortunate, as I am not particularly fond of chocolate. Slim Jims, yes. Chocolate, no. I should change my theme from brown and white to red and yellow and meat juice to better suit my personality. That can be saved for another time. It took me 7 months to change my blog the first time 'round. Oh, well.

Let's see . . . what to write about. I am jobless, much to my mother's chargrin. I am schooless. I am moneyless. I am -less.

Last night I slept like a shark. In my insomnia, I read I, Issac, Take Thee, Rebecca. If I needed a reminder of how seriously hard marriage is, I got it. Don't get me wrong, I want to have me a werriage(a contraction of wedding and marriage), but I won't be meeting the height requirements anytime soon on my own.

I am writing from Stuart's room and his guitar is perched precariously atop a mound of clothes. Guitars are made for smashing. At least, that's what I hear. Stuart is wearing a hat. He says I have a loud inside voice.

Just remember: Root, root, root for Jesus.