Something completely unprecedented happened last night that may never occur again in my lifetime:

I beat Christopher Rowe at Trivial Pursuit. Yay!

(Though, to be fair, I barely beat him.)

We had to buy the Genus 5 edition, because they were all sold out of the 20th Anniversary Edition at the store. (The lady who worked there shook her head anyway and informed us that she'd heard the questions for the 20th Anniversary Edition were "really far out there, just bizarre" in a way that implied we were better off with Genus 5.) The questions have way more recent stuff, and the sports category--due I'm sure to popular demand--seems to have very little to do with sports at all, except for tennis and golf. Anyway... I won!

And I'm using a lot of parentheticals this morning.

Today, I must catch up in my screenwriting workshop, on posting some reviews and on putting up something for review. The rest of life has been so crazy for the past month or so, that I've made a very poor showing there lately. And I must also do whatever else I have to at work. And read a damn newspaper.

Speaking of which: There's a really interesting new series in the Washington Post that began yesterday, on the new diversity in the South. I highly suggest checking it out. Anne Hull's first article, about a DQ outside Atlanta that somehow symbolizes a whole subculture, is here. Go forth and read it.

And drop in for Mr. Barzak's account of doing an impromptu, but demanded, reading of his story Lips from Say...was that a kiss?

A sidenote in a collection of sidenotes. We took George to camp at my parents yesterday, where he'll stay till we determine when and where we're moving. On the way back, we drove through the little town of McKee, which is basically a courthouse square and a very few businesses. Next to the courthouse is a really unattractive brown stone building, currently covered in Christmas lights. Above the door, in red twinkly lights, it says "Vacancy." That's right, you guessed it: it's the jail.

Good Monday and all that.