I thought about posting yesterday. I had a good one brewing in my head about the relationship between government policy becoming softer on drugs while simultaneously becoming more powerful and controlling in other areas. I wanted to examine how Americans are quite happy with giving up their freedoms as long as they have their opiate, so to speak. I may still do that one soon.

But yesterday I came home to a for sale sign in the yard. I called our landlord, asking what the hell was up with that. He sort of chuckled and said the realtor wasn't supposed to put up the signs until we'd been told. Bad form, jerk, bad form.

Because we didn't sell our house in GA until a year ago, we couldn't buy a house here when we moved 3 years ago. So we've been renting. Well, we couldn't buy last year either, because for 2 years, we haven't had a significant source of income due to both James and I being students. So at this point, we have a few options, and none of them sound very appealing. We can buy a house, but it has to be in a crappy neighborhood and/or cost just a few K, OR go back to a teeny apartment only suitable for hobbits, OR move 20 miles out of town, OR hide and cry. Posting on my blog wasn't really an option yesterday.

What do y'all think? Any ideas?

On a lighter note, I think a sense of humor can be somewhat genetic. Situations that strike a person as funny stimulate the brain a certain way, releasing dopamine, and other feel-good enzymes, in a particular quantity or in a particular area. Since DNA contains the "blueprint" for a person's brain structure, then it stands to reason that a kid would come hardwired similarly to their parents. And then nurture comes into play later. Pickles used to constantly ask if things were funny. "Is that so funny, Mama? Is that so funny?"

What made me take note of this was Hamster tonight. In our bad parent moments, we let Hamster stay up past his bedtime. He's very much a night owl (thanks, Mom) and sometimes we get tired of fighting it. So we're watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail for the 253rd time. Hamster, in his three-year old glory, burst out laughing as King Arthur came on the screen riding an invisible horse and his page clapped coconut shells together. "No horse, Mom! There's no horse!"