was the notion to toss her out of the car by the end of the day yesterday.

See, I HAD the chance to go with Poppy to see the Bears play, but Mother had been DYING to go to Chicago to look for a new purse. Originally, we were supposed to go to Heinous Mark-up for this endeavor, but I talked her out of that by telling her she wouldn't get out of there without spending at least $250, and we all know how freaked out about money she is. So what does she do? She goes and buys a Francesco Biasia for $278. It's her money, so whatever, and it IS a really nice bag. And most of the day was all right, because she was excited to go and in a fairly decent mood, plus I got to pop into Lush and grab me another Buffy and Butterball. But still, after awhile, it was like, "All right, I've seen you HOW MANY DAYS THIS WEEK? You're on my nerves -- especially since it never fails that you manage to somehow bring up Dad's death or Uncle Joe's death in some way, shape or form." Yes, everyone, she's grieving. She's been grieving for FOUR FREAKING YEARS NOW. She will NEVER STOP GRIEVING, of that I can be sure. YOU try it and see how much of it you can stand. Besides, I've never been to a Bears game, and that would've been interesting, especially if we'd have run into TOG.

Speaking of, I haven't talked about him lately, because there hasn't been anything to tell. I haven't seen him since he popped in a couple months ago. Not sure why; he doesn't usually stay a stranger this long. I would hate to think that the last thing he ever said to me was, "Have fun with your bike," though.

Meanwhile, true to NWI form, the weather has fallen straight into the shitter, raining all day and windy, windy, windy. The forecast for tomorrow? About the same. Welcome to fall.