Barney is almost gone. Bram went out and checked him out (as best as a human paramedic can) and thinks that he may be alive in the morning, but that he has very little life left.

John's agreed to take him to be put down in the morning if he's still alive.

Good lord, I hope the curtain calls come to a close very soon. By that, I mean to say that I hope that this is last of Twitch dropping by at 3:30 in the morning, drunk (or anyone else for that matter,) the last of Psycho Judy calling me endlessly about stupid, repetitive things, the last of emotional manipulation by people who want me to carry their water, the last of people who can't be counted on....

I'm just about to pop with all of this.

I'm thinking about flying Nick down here from Ohio to help me move. There is, at best, a very limited expectation of assistance with this move. I am unable to provide the kind of certainty of exactly when and how this move will occur, and I have to make a hueristic evaluation of the likelihood of assistance actually coming together - and I'm looking for other capitve resources.

My father offered, but I can't see a.) having an 80 year old man help me move, and b.) seeing what I look like in a straight jacket.

I still have some things to get into place to have the move happen. I won't have those things fully in place until Tuesday.

Chuck just sent me pictures of our trip to Vancouver. We've been back for eight months, and .. the pictures are here. Jesus, I was heavier. He looked so great. All Chuck.

I have weighed the options about any new activity with the newly arrived, interesting/interested married man and have concluded that it's a no go. No more unavailable men. Zero tolerance.

Talked to my sister today, as it was her birthday. She started off by cheerfully criticizing me, as she does with every phone call, because I was in the car. I have a one hour drive to church each Sunday morning, and it's an ideal time to knock out social phone calls. However, since I'm driving in the car, it's not enough for her - she thinks I should sit in a chair and talk to her without any other activity at all. So, we get a comment. Every call.

Then, after some pleasantries, she asks me what's going on with this house. I stupidly answer rather than saying "I'll let you know what my new address is, other than that, you don't need to know."

She let me know, with a cheery lilt in her voice that no one in the family was going to help me with the housing situation, and that she had no idea how I could expect to make this house purchase happen.

She seems to love (in my interpretation) telling me that I'm a loser.

And I'm just over it.

Perhaps it would be a great idea to tell them nothing. I've said it before of myself, why can I not do that? I tell my father as little as I can, why can't I just talk about the weather, or mutually agreeable politics?

Watching more of the first season of "24." It's a terrific show.

Almost time to go to bed.