According to Wikipedia (which is totally updated by whoever, but it did seem to know first that Anna Nicole Smith had died), the phrase "shooting the messenger" originated with Sophocles in Antigone.  Of course, from "Antingone" we also get "antagonize," which is another thing I am sometimes good at.

So anyway, I was having a bit of a tiff with Ma and Pa this week over some hurt feelings and misunderstandings when Blondie threw herself into the fray.  Now, I did ask her to spare herself, but when she did, with the best of intentions, soldier on, I threw her under the bus.  I shot the messenger.

And now I feel sort of bad.

Why is it that no matter how old you get, you always act like an imbecile with your own family?  WHY WHY WHY?

Anyway.  I did get the photo disk back from vacation. I am inexplicably red-faced, but my beloved does not look like he became a giant marshmellow, which is often how he looks at high altitudes.  He is still hot.  I look horrible. But my vanity will not stop me from showing you the photo taken shortly after I won the hula-hoop contest at the Whale's Tail.  Photos coming soon.

Carry on.