Today was one of many deadlines for things related to my gig running a Spookymilk Survivor-type game for high schools. I had a "Spooky Milk" logo made as part of the project. It's pretty thrilling.

My Dad's been married for 23 years today. I don't celebrate that in and of itself necessarily, but it's the 23-year anniversary of me gaining a stepsister that became a great friend, and who survived two brain surgeries this last year shortly after becoming a first-time mother. Cheers, Rallista.

I'm locked in some pretty tense negotiations right now, and I'm so tense and angry all the time I'll probably be scarce for a couple of days. As meat and E can perhaps attest, a lot of people believe they deserve their art for free (or close to it), and they get pissy when you draw a line in the sand. This is where negotiations stand right now.

The scariest thing I saw last night: a scorpion. In my room.

We've had kind of a busy few weeks, so I'm probably going to end up being 9 again (from the movie 9). The Greatest American Hero will have to wait another year, I guess.

Last night was the Halloween party for my daughters' school. Sour Cream gets compliments on her cuteness everywhere she goes, but I never, ever get sick of it. That will come when she's 16.

Will Pujols and LaRussa be back, or is this the end of the Cardinals as they're currently defined?

This is it, dudes. One of the top three World Series of my baseball-watching life ends today.

Twenty years ago today, Jack Morris and Gene Larkin did things that ensured that we'd always say "Gene Larkin wasn't that good, but..." or "Jack Morris is a jagweed, but at least he...".

I love baseball because large sample sizes can prove anything, but I might love it even more because small sample sizes can make Gene Larkin my baseball hero for life.

Last night there were thunderstorms here (but the rain was about a mile away...sigh) and my internet was down for three or four hours. It's embarrassing how much that sucked for me.