It took me five hours to get back to Chicago. I blame Greyhound for the shoddy state of its fleet — there were breakdown-related delays coming and going — and Our Bold Hero for standing at what must have been the wrong local bus stop for 45 minutes once he got to the south side.

Or maybe the #15 southbound doesn't exist. There's always that. Or the southbound and northbound are the same bus? In any case, I managed to cobble together a route home using the other buses at my disposal.

I just hope that last bit of luck didn't use up too many of the no-whammies I've been stockpiling of late. Granted, it was preceded by a bunch of whammies, but I don't think this system naturally balances itself out.

Milwaukee was fun, odd, whatever. Probably the last time my entire family is together until at least May. It was also a belated birthday celebration of sorts: I got Burnout 3 from my parents and — after failing for several hours to discover the hidden present under the pillow next to me — Illuminati from my brothers. It's not just a game, it's an as-yet foolproof test of how much I'll like a person.

It's the latest edition, almost exactly the same with a few very minor revisions. An update for the other Esteemed Owners of the Cards: the text on Orbital Mind Control Lasers, probably the most controversial card in the game, has been updated. Revised text:

Once per turn, owner can add, remove, or reverse an alignment of any other group in play; change lasts for owner's turn only.

This has been a public service announcement. Now that the card is less ambiguous, Owners won't have to strongarm everyone else with "well, it's my game." (A surprisingly effective argument, actually.)

If you don't think this is a big deal, you haven't played nearly enough Illuminati.

The fulfillment of a dream I'd had since my freshman year of college notwithstanding, yesterday was very low-key. We ate out at one of those microbrewery restaurants, where I polished off a full rack of porkribs and learned (a few glasses in) that dark, heavy beer is still filling. Since I came of legal age it seems like I've been constantly ordering alcohol when eating out with my parents.

After dinner no one felt like doing much of anything. I'd never seen Cast Away, which had come out to some acclaim while I was in Germany, so my brothers and I watched that. And settled into our usual comedic rhythms.

Matt and I tried to figure out the last book he'd read that wasn't about fishing, then moved on to the last book he'd read that wasn't about fishing or for class. All evidence suggests that at a young age I gave Matt my mechanical aptitude and fishing abilities in exchange for his love of reading and one of those fuzzy black caterpillars.

There was a plan to harness our augmented abilities and become superheroes but, well, you know how it goes.

I was surprised by Cast Away, actually. First, because I'd always thought that it was Castaway — a title which would have made the metaphorical senses at work here much less mind-numbingly obvious — and second because, though it was a good film, I thought there'd be more. It felt quick and simple.

Wilson, however, was everything I'd hoped for and more.

That's prettymuch it. I'm not sure I like the idea of putting my family's quirks and conversations out there for everyone to see, however inoffensive and trivial they are, so this entry is probably much less interesting than it should be.