Okay, so...

...I may have failed at my New Year's Resolution to post every day. Okay, yes, I HAVE failed. I'm a big fat failure. What are you going to do, fire me?

I have no excuse, really. Just, you know, busying myself with preparations for moving and such, to accomadate Jet's new job.

Oh, by the way, Jet has a new job. And so we'll be moving. Next month. To an historic house that needs no improvements, in a hip urban neighborhood. Every gay man's dream.

So, I'm off this afternoon on the final leg of a tour with the National Cathedral Choir, which has frankly been the bane of my existence for the past two weeks. I really like the IDEA of singing at the cathedral, but the reality of not sleeping in my own bed and being surrounded by fourth-grade boys and/or high school girls is another matter entirely. Plus, apparently, I'm not as young as I like to think I am. According to my body.

Not that it was entirely bad, as last week in Chicago I got to see our dear friends JubJub and Bette-Midler's-Secret-Daughter, but I would have just as soon gone to Chicago just to see them, and be done with it.

Then Mother Rubble, in Ohio for her High School Reunion, met me in Indianapolis along with cousin Shella, and put me to shame with the results of her new health kick. Advised me that I better start walking those dogs a few more miles a day than what I been a doin'.

Speaking of those dogs, the cruelest blow was that travel on Sunday prevented me from attending the Adopted-from-the-pound Reunion picnic, which disappointed me to no end. But a kindly stranger took pictures for me, which I spent a long time yesterday making into a Warhol-esque print that I will further refine as soon as I don't have to rely on my work computer's substandard graphics software, then market and sell on posters, t-shirts, and calendars: