So, if I don't tell my credit card companies that I'm moving, are we talking collection agencies or bounty hunters, or a combination thereof?

Because I've been itchin' for a tussle with one of them bounty hunters, I tell you what.

That phony dialect reminds me. The other day, I was checking out the "competition" and I thought to myself: "Bill, you reject better ideas than these. You reject them harshly and without concern for their poor little idea feelings, you callous bastard." So, for a larf, I whipped myself up a screenplay idea based on a MAD TV sketch that was playing on my television at that very moment, and posted it on that website.

I am now anticipating a barrage of industry interest. It is really going to be rough for me if this happens, as I have not actually taken the step of writing the script for 'Move That There Junk, Boys.' That, however, is why I keep a large stash of assorted caffeine products nearby.

Besides, it's not like I'm going to post one of my good ideas there.

My favorite thing about that web page is that every other screenplay idea is about 'MURDER MOST FOUL!' Dear Everyone: There are other dramatic devices besides people being killed. I am more interested in laughing and thinking than in watching knives be inserted in places they should not be inserted. Thank you.

That being said, I want everyone to go to that website and post a movie idea. Then, I want you to let me know that you did it (it won't show up right away). Don't worry about actually doing any writing. If Hollywood contacts you, and you need a script whipped up, your friendly neighborhood FadeIn will take care of that detail for a tidy percentage.

I have to warn you, though: If your idea is for a script about 'Singles who are so sick of the dating scene that they turn to the Internet for love!' there are almost as many of those out there as there are 'MURDER MOST FOUL!' scripts.

No one seems to have combined the two yet, so maybe that's your angle.

Go nuts.

So, I feel immeasurably better than I did Monday. Angsty Bill never sticks around very long, thankfully. His reign is often quickly supplanted by Jovial Bill, or, even more likely, Hungry Bill.

Which is nearly as good, and is at least a nice indicator that things are returning to normal.

As of today, there are 16 days left for me in my beloved Chicago. There are a few things that I want to do before I leave: Get really, really good at guitar. Get "buff." And get a haircut.

My friend Sascha asked me recently what kind of stuff I really want to do before I leave. I thought about it, and I realized that most of the Chicago cultural stuff I've already done to my satisfaction.

I've been to the Art Institute too many times to count. I just went to the Field Museum for the Cleopatra thing, and then later that day went to Chinatown (you may recall that was the day my friend Nick and I threatened to cyrogenically freeze our mothers). I've been to the Chicago Cultural Center. The Natural History Museum. Both zoos. The Sears Tower Observatory. The Museum of Science and Industry (although, I really should go one last time for the Hip Hop exhibit). Been to the Planetarium and the Aquarium.

That's a whole buncha -iums and -eums.

As for sports, which I don't care too much for anyway: I've seen a Bulls game. I've seen a Bears game. Seen a Sox game. Soccer too. No hockey, but I don't really care. I would, however, love to go to one last Cubs game.

I've been to many neighborhoods. Loft parties in Pilsen. Beer and Blockbuster Nights in Lakeview. Art parties in River North. Quiet nights in Ravenswood. Dropping in on friends in Wicker Park and Rogers Park and Edgewater. Hailing cabs in Wrigleyville. Naked, drunken truth or dare in Lincoln Park.

That last one is actually a good story. Remind me to tell it one day. I will say now, though, that somewhere, someone on this planet has a picture of my bare ass.

I've laid out on the beaches and run along the lake. I've been to many carnivals. I've been to the Taste of Chicago. I worked a restaraunt booth at Market Days. My mom took me to parades when I was a lad. I've eaten in the Walnut room at Christmastime at Marshall Fields a few times.

Music and theater: I've been to the Lyric opera house. I've been to Ravinia. I've seen tons of improv. I've been in tons of improv. And stage plays. I've seen musicals downtown (though I didn't get to see 'Cabaret' when it was here, damn it). I've seen shows nearly everyplace there is to see shows. I was with my youngest brother Barry when we were kicked out of the Metro because he threw up during a Weezer show.

So, you know, that's covered.

If I ever meet Rivers Cuomo, I'm going to have to ask if he remembers that. You never saw cool kids move so fast in your life. It was like Barry parted the Red Sea of hipsters.

Checking out the above 'stuff Bill did' list puts me in a good mood. I've had a pretty decent life here in Chicago. Did I miss anything?

Fucking hell, I'm going to miss this city.

So, really, this just leaves me with the task of hitting all my favorite restaurants. Stanley's was taken care of last night. Roong Petch, Orange Garden, and Fiesta Mexicana are in the works.

Oh, and if 10 people want to split the cost of a one week rental on a completely decked out, brand new with all the fixin's, 28 foot long RV that's going from here to Los Angeles around the end of the month, let me know.

$380 apiece. A cross country Diaryland party on wheels. Think about it.