Where we are all at, at least for today:
Philippa is currently down to 200 words and is going through some refinements in preparation to send to Disney, Hyperion in another week.
Oliver is spending some quality time at Simon and Schuster (fingers crossed), thanks to Chris and the great people at Shadow Mountain who believe in him enough to recommend him--and his flight plight--to people they know who might take him on.
Denton is a little pissed at Cole for all those spitwad germs of his that are probably worming their way through his lacerated scalp at the moment. It's all for the best that he doesn't have a clue what's in store. There will come a time when a loogie in the hair will seem like good times.
Cole is still getting his laugh on over the whole thing; and it serves Denton right for being dorkwad numero uno and screwing up the upcoming soccer season.
Hana, well, let's just say that Hana is not in a very conversational mood at the moment. Teens, you can't live with them without wanting to kill them. Of course, Hana deserves some special consideration, what with all that she has been through. Still, it does no one any good to go off all angry and half-cocked.
...and as for me . . .
it's hailing here like a son-of-a-b. In July. In freakin' July!