GET OUT.

So I follow Neil Gaiman's blog with the vigour of a freaky cyber-stalker, right?  The other day he was cold, so he was hit with the impulse to get in his car and drove to... Florida?  And he's writing about his experience, when he states that he parked for a while to do an online radio show... and he parked on Lookout Mountain.  Holy freaking cow.  Makes me wish I'd been there this week... imagine going to the Starbucks, and glancing in the car parked next to you and it was Neil freaking Gaiman?  I'd've died on the spot.

Speaking of, I'm getting that urge again to drive back down there.  It's just so pretty... but I really can't.  I just got back from Jersey, and Amy (and maybe Merlin?  Hint hint poke poke?) are coming in late March, and I just plain old can't afford to take time off between now and then.  Especially if I'm seriously considering ComiCon this summer.  Which I totally am.

Hmm.... ComiCon.  Well, it's $75 for the entire weekend, or between $25-35 per day.  That's... doable.  I'm just scared to comit, because I like to pretend like there's a possibility I'd be getting a real job between now and July.  Which, of course, is assuming I'd actually get off my lazy, lazy butt and send in an application or resume to someone somewhere.  Which is an awfully big assumption.

Bah.  BAH!