Sconnie.

There is a plan, you guys. There is a plan in the works to go on an adorable little Midwestern getaway. With a BOY. Well, a man. If I took a boy over state lines for this gig, I believe that would be a federal offense.

But anyway. Ummm... there is gonna be a CABIN, and a LAKE, and a FIREPLACE, and all kinds of just nauseatingly bucolic stuff. Which I am probably jinxing by writing about. And the lady still needs to send me the address to send the check to, and I will feel much better when that's actually done and the thing is like officially confirmed. I can't relax without being confirmed.

My inability to relax is a key contributor to my need to go on this trip.

Is it slightly smug to be writing about my upcoming mini-vacation with my fellow? Yes. But please remember that another vacation of mine in the not-too-distant past involved sitting on my couch for a week, watching "The Wire," probably eating Doritos. I have paid into the "pathetic loser" bank for quite some time. Now I am making a withdrawal.

Okay, that metaphor doesn't really work like I want it to.