Back in Wilmington for Thanksgiving. I met the nephew yesterday, and he is, in fact, the cutest baby ever. What's more, Jorge says I'm a good influence on him -- he didn't cry when he was being changed when I was there. I have therefore determined that I am officially his favorite. So there.

The Mormons in the Basement are taking care of the cat while I'm away. I also asked them to take care of the snow, which led to the following conversation:

Me: Hi, listen, I hope you don't mind, but could I ask you to shovel the walk and put down salt while I'm away? You're probably going to get hit with some snow.
TMITB (who is from Chile): OK, but what is "shovel"?

My first reaction: You poor bastard. You have no idea what you're in for . Second reaction: Who the hell sends anyone to Chicago without making sure they know what "shovel" means? Third: Hey, they have snow in Chile! There's penguins and everything. Oh, but it's a very long country, so maybe it doesn't happen where he's from.

So anyway, there's a pissed-off, shovel-wielding Chilean mormon at my house. So don't rob me -- it would be ugly.

Oh, also: When I was checking in at O'Hare yesterday, I saw someone zipping around on a Segway scooter. Dude, they're cool.

Lotti and John's real wedding was last night. Very cool, if much less gaudy than the one we threw. Ah well, you can't have everything.

I discovered that a friend has been editorialized against. Go you! She was very huffy about editorial writers having no respect for the facts, so I once again had to explain that they really don't need to -- that's the joy of an editorial writer's job. They're like columnists, in that they just get to say whatever the hell they want. That's why we all want those jobs.

A note to anyone who is interested: When given a choice between tartan pants and a kilt for formalwear, take the kilt. Tartan pants just look silly. (Who says BBC America isn't educational?)