What happens in Vegas . . .

Doesn't always stay there. Case in point: I came home from my desert sojourn $150 richer, thanks to a lovely evening spent at the craps table.

Let me run that by you again, just to gloat: $150. Add the $50 I staked myself, and we're sending $200 to the Red Cross. Isn't that just the nicest thing ever? Personally, I'd rather buy myself a new fountain pen. But Judybat seems to think we should help other people. Like that's a message we want to send to TheBoy.

Anyway, three days in Sin City with my brother and my stepfather -- the Current and Forever, as opposed to the Once and Future -- seems to have been just the thing I needed to get me out of my post-summer rut. Except for the fact that I ate too much, stayed out too late, inhaled too much second-hand smoke and came back more heart-achey than ever about what's happened to my family.

More on that later. For now, let's all revel in the fact that I took some cash from TheMan, despite his best efforts to take it all from me at the blackjack table. Take that, Man!