So when last I posted, whether you realized it or not, Ellen & I were planning to jet off to Italy to live happily ever after. The only kink in the plan was that, while we are both imminently hire-able as the illustrious English teachers we are (and modest, too!), nobody in Italy seems to know how to hire an American. That doesn't mean they're not willing to learn. It just means the visa process takes as its model, that famous Chinese import to Italian cuisine, spaghetti. And with visa relations the way they are these days, that may be more accurately modeled as pressure-cooked spaghetti, or ramen noodles (fried into a block, but curly as ever. And yummy with chemically-salty "broth" powder! What, did I go too far?)
Anyway, so we're back in the States to stay... for a while. Who knows how long? And, guess where? Well, if you read more of these blogs in the future (and, oh yeah, I bother to write any more of them), you may just be able to guess. No, you can't crash on our floor. That is, unless we've already said you could. You know who you are.
And with that little bit of existential ominousness (ominosity?), I leave you to your devices. L8r!
