I'm on a scuba vacation with my family at an undisclosed location. The reason I can't tell you where I am is that yesterday at the airport, some people saw me typing away on my computer at Starbucks and within seconds there must have been a thousand people asking me to blog on their bodies, which is pretty foul business.  I don't want the same thing to happen to me here, while I'm trying to relax.  Even Justin Bieber, who seems super accommodating, is cracking under the stress of his fame.

I'm aware that it's really stupid to announce on the web that I'm out of town.  And if I were able to pick the kind of guys to rob my house at this time, I'd go with the dorks from Home Alone, rather than somebody like Tom Cruise, who continually needs to be lowered into situations when he's taking stuff.  I do have some skylights that would suit his M.O., but I'd rather envision people fumbling around, stepping on hoes and hurting themselves while my dog sitter sleeps through it all.