Or, at least, I am.
Now on to December 22, 2012. The day after the world is supposed to end according to
some moron'ssomeone's translation of the Mayan calender.
Anyone remember the early '70's when people were moving to Idaho because California was definitely going to fall into the Pacific? I had a
really stupidreality challenged cousin-in-law who moved his family to southeastern Idaho. You know, right in the heart of the Yellowstone super-volcano caldera. A place where the Earth pukes it's guts out about every 600,000 years. It's last bender was around 600,000 years ago, so its probably getting itself all gussied up for another period of "painting the town 'red'" (or actually gray).
So, as May 22nd approaches, may I wish each of you a very happy first day of the rest of your life. For what its worth.
"Let's all be careful out there!"