Through a tangled course of events last night that began with John making a poor driving decision and ended with us pulled over at a Kwik Stop talking to a police officer, we found out that we have chauffeurs' drivers licenses. Apparently, along with many many other things that the state of Florida can't do right, when we surrendered our Kansas licenses in exchange for Florida ones three years ago, the people at the DMV mistakenly listed both of us as chauffeurs. So if anybody in Gainesville wants to ride around in one of those Humvee limos, I could probably make that happen...

Most of you know about our on-again, off-again relationship with the US Postal Service. We've had bills gone undelivered, magazines arrived missing covers, covers arrived without magazines, you name it. It's gotten to the point that we only use USPS for Netflix and letters. Everything else is shipped UPS. But now, I'm starting to wonder if it really is the fault of the Post Office, or if somehow our house has become-- like Atlantis-- unlocatable. Consider, if you will, a recent conversation I had with a FedEx customer service rep:

Me: I just tracked my package and your website says that it was delivered to my front door three hours ago. It's not there.

FedEx: Let me track it for you.......... It says it's at [insert our address here].

Me: Yeah. It's not.

FedEx: It says it was delivered at 1:00.

Me. Yeah. It wasn't. I've been here all afternoon.

FedEx: Huh.

So yeah, it looks like we've fallen into the Bermuda Triangle. Unfortunately, we still get junk mail here. Go figure.