You can't go home again...

...But you can go to Geoffrey's.

Because Geoffrey and his special lady friend, Melissa, live in sin in her apartment, and Geoffrey's ne'er-do-well sister lives in his apartment rent free, he kicked her out (I think she slept in a women's shelter or something for the week) and gave us full access to his living room, bedroom AND bathroom, which was very cool of him. And very free for us, as opposed to a hotel, which would have been the opposite of free.

Now, with the whole Brent Wilkes/Dusty Foggo dustup at the CIA, I, being a high-ranking government official, must look at the ethical implications of accepting gifts like free apartments for the week. Darn culture of corruption. I've been ensared in its net. As long as Goeffrey doesn't ask me to throw some government contracts his way as a quid pro quo I think I'm in the clear.

We are wrapping up a week in New York full of food, drink, and more food. Seriously, our schedule seemed to revolve around lunch and dinner, which was nice. It seems, however, that our memories of New York didn't involve the large, invisible vacuum that is attached to your wallet as you enter the city. But I can tell you that it does, indeed, exist, and we have fallen victim to the wallet-sucker throughout the week.

Today off to Madison, Wisconsin for brats and cheese curds (and also Katherine's sister Meredith's college graduation if we have time).