Saturday
Thursday
Wednesday
It's the little things.
I have been insanely tired all day. Probably because I went to sleep after 2 last night, and then only sort of slept and then got up at 6:30 and then went to work for 9 hours. Maybe! Anyway, I can totally sleep now, because I don't have to go back! But I'm not going to! Because I can sleep tomorrow! Wheee!
Perhaps, though, this is the reason that I have been so easily amused today. My duties at this temporary job included staring at a phone all day. This phone had a clock on it, but the clock was off the company's time by a considerable margin (and the company's clock is actually one minute slower than my cell phone's clock, which I tend to regard as Gospel Time, but no matter). This really bothered me. Really. And there was no discernible way to change it. Until today, when I asked one of my coworkers if there was, in fact, a way to change the time. And there was! There was a manual somewhere. So I got the manual, looked up the needlessly complex means of fixing the time, and then did it . The time on the clock synched up perfectly with the time on the wall. Then, I spent the next hours or so beaming ecstatically.
Sometimes being obsessive compulsive can be amazingly gratifying.
Later in the day, I was greatly entertained by Jeopardy!. One of the correct responses was a man's name. This man apparently did cool things in the early end of the 20th century. I forget what though, and it doesn't matter, because this man's name was Norbert Weiner. And then I laughed like I have rarely ever laughed before. There were tears literally streaming down my face. My abdomen hurt so. freaking. much. but I just couldn't stop. I was laughing for at least 10 minutes. I realize this probably isn't very mature, but ... Norbert Weiner.
Let's see. What's been going on in television? A lot! I watched Veronica Mars this week. It was very good, but I don't really feel like discussing it. I probably won't feel like discussing next week's either. But still, very good. It occurred to me that I started watching this show in much the same way I started watching Buffy -- grudgingly. My sister was the one who told me about Buffy and said I'd probably like it. But I was totally against it. No thanks! And then I started watching it, and I tried to be blasé about it, but I couldn't, because I loved it. And that's sort of like Veronica Mars.
I also watched American Idol. Ha! I don't have much to say about it except the following: Every single person picked horrible songs that I hated. It was an all-around unpleasant experience. As for tonight, this is not the first time I've said this, but: I really don't understand the American voting public. WHAT. Seriously, WHAT. Mostly, I'm going to miss TWoP's hilarious commentaries on Constantine. They make my week.
And now for Lost!
[Begin Spoiler for the Catch Up Episode — Highlight to view]
Man, this was pretty pointless. I mean, on one level, I appreciate that they did this, because there's a lot of stuff going on in the show, and maybe some new people want to watch it but don't know what the hell is going on? It was a nice thought. But I was sad that there wasn't any insight for people who *have* been watching. I mean, I watched because I have nothing else to do with my Wednesday evenings. But really ... this show made Lost look far less fucked up than it is. And that made me a little sad. It's actually a lot weirder when you figure in the lame being cured, the mysterious corpses, resurrections, numerical curses, polar bears, and the freaky Satan child. This left out all the details, and I'm pretty sure (or at least hopeful) that those details are going to turn out to be import.
What was interesting, though, is noticing how much, for example, Shannon and Boone have affected the major plotlines and how little, for example, Jack and Kate have. Interesting.
[End Spoiler]
[Begin Spoiler for the preview for next week — Highlight to view]
Locke! Creepy Terry O'Quinn! I'm so upset! Poor Locke!
Did anyone else get the vibe that it seemed like Shannon is prepping Sayid to become her replacement Boone? You know, hiring a new person for the "person to lead around by the balls" slot in her life? I sure got that vibe. Which would be kind of cool, because she's so fucked up and unpleasant, even at a time when she's more or less sympathetic.
[End Spoiler]
Oh, also, speaking of my sister (which I did a while back), she was in the emergency room this past weekend. It turns out that she had a cyst on her ovary, and it burst. She's fine now, as is expected to be fine, though she'll be laid up for a few days. I'm not worried, and I know that this is not uncommon. To be honest, this makes me a little relieved. Because she's probably going to go on medication, and she'll probably be having regular follow-ups, just like I do. This means there will be a far less likely chance that her ovaries are going to develop cancer and kill her. And that's good.
Of course, both of my parents cried when they learned about this. Not bawling or anything, but they teared up. Which I guess is not entirely unexpected. But they're okay too.
Um. ... Norbert Weiner?
Perhaps, though, this is the reason that I have been so easily amused today. My duties at this temporary job included staring at a phone all day. This phone had a clock on it, but the clock was off the company's time by a considerable margin (and the company's clock is actually one minute slower than my cell phone's clock, which I tend to regard as Gospel Time, but no matter). This really bothered me. Really. And there was no discernible way to change it. Until today, when I asked one of my coworkers if there was, in fact, a way to change the time. And there was! There was a manual somewhere. So I got the manual, looked up the needlessly complex means of fixing the time, and then did it . The time on the clock synched up perfectly with the time on the wall. Then, I spent the next hours or so beaming ecstatically.
Sometimes being obsessive compulsive can be amazingly gratifying.
Later in the day, I was greatly entertained by Jeopardy!. One of the correct responses was a man's name. This man apparently did cool things in the early end of the 20th century. I forget what though, and it doesn't matter, because this man's name was Norbert Weiner. And then I laughed like I have rarely ever laughed before. There were tears literally streaming down my face. My abdomen hurt so. freaking. much. but I just couldn't stop. I was laughing for at least 10 minutes. I realize this probably isn't very mature, but ... Norbert Weiner.
Let's see. What's been going on in television? A lot! I watched Veronica Mars this week. It was very good, but I don't really feel like discussing it. I probably won't feel like discussing next week's either. But still, very good. It occurred to me that I started watching this show in much the same way I started watching Buffy -- grudgingly. My sister was the one who told me about Buffy and said I'd probably like it. But I was totally against it. No thanks! And then I started watching it, and I tried to be blasé about it, but I couldn't, because I loved it. And that's sort of like Veronica Mars.
I also watched American Idol. Ha! I don't have much to say about it except the following: Every single person picked horrible songs that I hated. It was an all-around unpleasant experience. As for tonight, this is not the first time I've said this, but: I really don't understand the American voting public. WHAT. Seriously, WHAT. Mostly, I'm going to miss TWoP's hilarious commentaries on Constantine. They make my week.
And now for Lost!
[Begin Spoiler for the Catch Up Episode — Highlight to view]
Man, this was pretty pointless. I mean, on one level, I appreciate that they did this, because there's a lot of stuff going on in the show, and maybe some new people want to watch it but don't know what the hell is going on? It was a nice thought. But I was sad that there wasn't any insight for people who *have* been watching. I mean, I watched because I have nothing else to do with my Wednesday evenings. But really ... this show made Lost look far less fucked up than it is. And that made me a little sad. It's actually a lot weirder when you figure in the lame being cured, the mysterious corpses, resurrections, numerical curses, polar bears, and the freaky Satan child. This left out all the details, and I'm pretty sure (or at least hopeful) that those details are going to turn out to be import.
What was interesting, though, is noticing how much, for example, Shannon and Boone have affected the major plotlines and how little, for example, Jack and Kate have. Interesting.
[End Spoiler]
[Begin Spoiler for the preview for next week — Highlight to view]
Locke! Creepy Terry O'Quinn! I'm so upset! Poor Locke!
Did anyone else get the vibe that it seemed like Shannon is prepping Sayid to become her replacement Boone? You know, hiring a new person for the "person to lead around by the balls" slot in her life? I sure got that vibe. Which would be kind of cool, because she's so fucked up and unpleasant, even at a time when she's more or less sympathetic.
[End Spoiler]
Oh, also, speaking of my sister (which I did a while back), she was in the emergency room this past weekend. It turns out that she had a cyst on her ovary, and it burst. She's fine now, as is expected to be fine, though she'll be laid up for a few days. I'm not worried, and I know that this is not uncommon. To be honest, this makes me a little relieved. Because she's probably going to go on medication, and she'll probably be having regular follow-ups, just like I do. This means there will be a far less likely chance that her ovaries are going to develop cancer and kill her. And that's good.
Of course, both of my parents cried when they learned about this. Not bawling or anything, but they teared up. Which I guess is not entirely unexpected. But they're okay too.
Um. ... Norbert Weiner?
Thursday
Working is for chumps.
And I am a chump.
So, as I may or probably may not have mentioned, I registered with an agency to find some employment of a transitory nature. Because ... bah. Long story. Let's just say it's because I like and need money. That's close enough to the truth.
This morning I was woken by my phone at 9:24AM. It was my friendly ... contact guy? and he wanted to know if I wanted to go on a job THIS VERY DAY. Honestly, I should have said no. And I knew, even as I was not saying no, that not saying no would be a huge mistake. But, anyway, I said sure. And he said he'd call me right back. So I got up and got online and AOL was stupid and I had some cereal. Then I figured I'd attempt to take a shower, bringing my phone in with me just in case. (Not in the actual shower.)
So, at about 11:30, I called him back. The assignment, if I chose to accept it was from today until next Wednesday. They would like me to come in at 1PM today.
FUCK NO! I did not say that. Almost. This fellow knows that I do not have a car. And this place? Not easily accessible without a car. But I called my father and asked if he would drive me in. Which he did. But I was going to have to find alternate means of transport home. More on this later.
I went first to the agency's office to fill out some tax things and show them my driver's license. I was supposed to bring two forms of ID, but I was tired irritable and rushing and forgot to look for where my passport may be stowed. I figured the hell with it. I'm legitimate and they know it.
Anyway, then it was on to the place. Which is a steel factory. A steel mill! Down in the Ironbound section of Newark. So named because of all it's metalworking and whatnot. I eventually found my way up to the office area where all the cubicles were. It was a pleasant and dull atmosphere and except for two ladies, all the employees were middle-aged to elderly men. Lots of gray hairs and spectacles.
My job was to answer the switchboard phone and then connect callers to all these people that I did not know. For about 15 minutes, it was high-stress and nerve-wracking, but then I figured out what I was doing and started putting faces to names and buttons, and then it was mind-numbingly boring. I took one break to use the lave, and tried to call my mother. Her phone was busy. Fuck. I went back and felt utterly frustrated because I was tied to this desk and phone, so I couldn't move.
But the company seems nice enough. And then 5 o'clock rolled around and the manager asked if I would be coming in tomorrow, and I agreed to that. AT 8 IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Am I stupid? Anyway.
There is a bus station right outside the building, and I had a little bus schedule. Which was completely retarded and unhelpful. Scheduled times are listed for 5 of the stops and there are about *twenty*-five on the route. Also, the direction I wanted to go to get to my destination? Apparently I actually want the other direction, even though that would be completely backwards according to the map. So after darting across the busy street to wait twenty minutes for a bus, I was informed that I had to go to the other side. So I went back across and waited about ten more minutes.
Then, crowded unpleasant-smelling bus. Furthermore according to the map, my destination doesn't seem very far away. Also, I have no idea where the fuck I am or where I'm going. So I get off the bus when I see a sign for the Broad St. Subway Station.
But, you know how, if you're on a highway, you can be somewhere around Washington D.C. and they'll have a sign that says "North - New York"? Yeah. It was kind of like that. I looked up to the skyline to find the Prudential building where my mother works, and I just walked towards that. I was actually somewhere in a very frightening and seedy neighborhood. I walked fast over broken beers bottles and past disreputable persons hanging out around gray and half-boarded-up buildings. My heart was racing, but not because I was walking as quickly as I was able (which I was) but rather because I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE at any moment. Seriously.
On the subject of walking, I happened to be wearing my mother's shoes today. This is because when I first started looking for work, I told my mother that I need to get some nice work shoes. It is rather impossible to find shoes that fit my short square toeless feet. Someday I'll have to ask Del how she manages. Anyway, I still have not purchased any new shoes, so I wound up wearing my mother's shoes, which is the exact situation I was hoping to avoid. My mother is a size 8. I am a size 6 1/2. I was not wearing shoes or stockings.
Because I was walking parallel to a major road that had only small streets intersecting it, I managed to walk for some ten or so blocks before I came to a red light and needed to stop. And after I had stopped walked for about ten seconds, THE PAIN caught up with me. Holy shit! Motherfucking OW! It felt like someone had pressed hot pokers into the soles of my feet, like they had rugburn or something.
I should also note that it was windy and my nose was running and I had no tissues. I was in an extremely unhappy mood and I kept muttering to myself about all the various sorts of harm I would do to anyone who tried to inhibit me. All told, I walked about twenty blocks until I got to the subway station.
At this point, I called my father and told him to pick me up at the usual picking up place. It was strange. At the beginning of my journey, I kept getting gawked at, presumabley because I looked attractive. By the end, I was still getting gawked at, only I think it was because people thought I was crazy. Which I might well have been. I distinctly remember having the desire to beat something to death.
The subway was, of course, crowded so I had to stand. I toed-off the back of one of my shoes and discovered with alarm that there was blood running down my heel. Jesus.
Eventually, I got home. An hour and 45 minutes after being released from work. I cleaned my wounds and went in my room to lay down. I called my fellow at the agency. I told him that the commute was extremely difficult, and while I would attempt to finish this assignment, as it wasn't very many days, I don't think I would like to do it again. I also requested that I be given at least 24 hours of notice on any future assignments.
Then I had reheated pizza. Because they were out of my soup at the store. But my mother made me a fruit and whipped cream dessert.
I have no idea how I'm going to get there by 8 tomorrow.
So, as I may or probably may not have mentioned, I registered with an agency to find some employment of a transitory nature. Because ... bah. Long story. Let's just say it's because I like and need money. That's close enough to the truth.
This morning I was woken by my phone at 9:24AM. It was my friendly ... contact guy? and he wanted to know if I wanted to go on a job THIS VERY DAY. Honestly, I should have said no. And I knew, even as I was not saying no, that not saying no would be a huge mistake. But, anyway, I said sure. And he said he'd call me right back. So I got up and got online and AOL was stupid and I had some cereal. Then I figured I'd attempt to take a shower, bringing my phone in with me just in case. (Not in the actual shower.)
So, at about 11:30, I called him back. The assignment, if I chose to accept it was from today until next Wednesday. They would like me to come in at 1PM today.
FUCK NO! I did not say that. Almost. This fellow knows that I do not have a car. And this place? Not easily accessible without a car. But I called my father and asked if he would drive me in. Which he did. But I was going to have to find alternate means of transport home. More on this later.
I went first to the agency's office to fill out some tax things and show them my driver's license. I was supposed to bring two forms of ID, but I was tired irritable and rushing and forgot to look for where my passport may be stowed. I figured the hell with it. I'm legitimate and they know it.
Anyway, then it was on to the place. Which is a steel factory. A steel mill! Down in the Ironbound section of Newark. So named because of all it's metalworking and whatnot. I eventually found my way up to the office area where all the cubicles were. It was a pleasant and dull atmosphere and except for two ladies, all the employees were middle-aged to elderly men. Lots of gray hairs and spectacles.
My job was to answer the switchboard phone and then connect callers to all these people that I did not know. For about 15 minutes, it was high-stress and nerve-wracking, but then I figured out what I was doing and started putting faces to names and buttons, and then it was mind-numbingly boring. I took one break to use the lave, and tried to call my mother. Her phone was busy. Fuck. I went back and felt utterly frustrated because I was tied to this desk and phone, so I couldn't move.
But the company seems nice enough. And then 5 o'clock rolled around and the manager asked if I would be coming in tomorrow, and I agreed to that. AT 8 IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Am I stupid? Anyway.
There is a bus station right outside the building, and I had a little bus schedule. Which was completely retarded and unhelpful. Scheduled times are listed for 5 of the stops and there are about *twenty*-five on the route. Also, the direction I wanted to go to get to my destination? Apparently I actually want the other direction, even though that would be completely backwards according to the map. So after darting across the busy street to wait twenty minutes for a bus, I was informed that I had to go to the other side. So I went back across and waited about ten more minutes.
Then, crowded unpleasant-smelling bus. Furthermore according to the map, my destination doesn't seem very far away. Also, I have no idea where the fuck I am or where I'm going. So I get off the bus when I see a sign for the Broad St. Subway Station.
But, you know how, if you're on a highway, you can be somewhere around Washington D.C. and they'll have a sign that says "North - New York"? Yeah. It was kind of like that. I looked up to the skyline to find the Prudential building where my mother works, and I just walked towards that. I was actually somewhere in a very frightening and seedy neighborhood. I walked fast over broken beers bottles and past disreputable persons hanging out around gray and half-boarded-up buildings. My heart was racing, but not because I was walking as quickly as I was able (which I was) but rather because I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE at any moment. Seriously.
On the subject of walking, I happened to be wearing my mother's shoes today. This is because when I first started looking for work, I told my mother that I need to get some nice work shoes. It is rather impossible to find shoes that fit my short square toeless feet. Someday I'll have to ask Del how she manages. Anyway, I still have not purchased any new shoes, so I wound up wearing my mother's shoes, which is the exact situation I was hoping to avoid. My mother is a size 8. I am a size 6 1/2. I was not wearing shoes or stockings.
Because I was walking parallel to a major road that had only small streets intersecting it, I managed to walk for some ten or so blocks before I came to a red light and needed to stop. And after I had stopped walked for about ten seconds, THE PAIN caught up with me. Holy shit! Motherfucking OW! It felt like someone had pressed hot pokers into the soles of my feet, like they had rugburn or something.
I should also note that it was windy and my nose was running and I had no tissues. I was in an extremely unhappy mood and I kept muttering to myself about all the various sorts of harm I would do to anyone who tried to inhibit me. All told, I walked about twenty blocks until I got to the subway station.
At this point, I called my father and told him to pick me up at the usual picking up place. It was strange. At the beginning of my journey, I kept getting gawked at, presumabley because I looked attractive. By the end, I was still getting gawked at, only I think it was because people thought I was crazy. Which I might well have been. I distinctly remember having the desire to beat something to death.
The subway was, of course, crowded so I had to stand. I toed-off the back of one of my shoes and discovered with alarm that there was blood running down my heel. Jesus.
Eventually, I got home. An hour and 45 minutes after being released from work. I cleaned my wounds and went in my room to lay down. I called my fellow at the agency. I told him that the commute was extremely difficult, and while I would attempt to finish this assignment, as it wasn't very many days, I don't think I would like to do it again. I also requested that I be given at least 24 hours of notice on any future assignments.
Then I had reheated pizza. Because they were out of my soup at the store. But my mother made me a fruit and whipped cream dessert.
I have no idea how I'm going to get there by 8 tomorrow.
Wednesday
Questions Beth has asked me.
In a particular context, anyway.
1) I know you like chicken, but what's your favorite type of chicken?
Chicken fingers. Hands down. (Hee.) My taste buds are, apparently, five.
2) What were you afraid of as a child?
Um. Probably a lot. But one thing I remember that I was specifically afraid of was the monster who totally lived in my closet. One day I decided to make my closet monster a present of some sort, and I left it in there. Afterwards, the monster was no longer menacing. It still lived there, but we were cool.
3) If you could change one thing about yourself (and not about your physical appearance), what would you alter?
Sadly, my first three options were physical things. I didn't even notice! Um. I guess I'd want to not be sick all the time, and in so many fashions. I think that would improve me a lot, beyond just the obvious of having better health.
4) What's your favorite episode of Angel ? (I know the answer for Buffy!)
I'm not sure! The last episode I had listed as my favorite was "Darla." I still think that episode's pretty good, but there's probably one that I like better because it has Vincent Kartheiser in it. Maybe one of the latter Season 4 episodes. Yes, bitches, I *liked* the end of Season 4, and you're just going to have to deal with it.
5) What toppings do you not like on pizza?
I dislike all toppings that are not cheese! Seriously! So picky!
1) I know you like chicken, but what's your favorite type of chicken?
Chicken fingers. Hands down. (Hee.) My taste buds are, apparently, five.
2) What were you afraid of as a child?
Um. Probably a lot. But one thing I remember that I was specifically afraid of was the monster who totally lived in my closet. One day I decided to make my closet monster a present of some sort, and I left it in there. Afterwards, the monster was no longer menacing. It still lived there, but we were cool.
3) If you could change one thing about yourself (and not about your physical appearance), what would you alter?
Sadly, my first three options were physical things. I didn't even notice! Um. I guess I'd want to not be sick all the time, and in so many fashions. I think that would improve me a lot, beyond just the obvious of having better health.
4) What's your favorite episode of Angel ? (I know the answer for Buffy!)
I'm not sure! The last episode I had listed as my favorite was "Darla." I still think that episode's pretty good, but there's probably one that I like better because it has Vincent Kartheiser in it. Maybe one of the latter Season 4 episodes. Yes, bitches, I *liked* the end of Season 4, and you're just going to have to deal with it.
5) What toppings do you not like on pizza?
I dislike all toppings that are not cheese! Seriously! So picky!
Tuesday
A German!
Congratulations to Joey Ratz. He is now a made man. From now on, he will go by his Family name: Benny 6-10.
This post has been brought to you by lunch with my father, who seriously cracks me up sometimes.
This post has been brought to you by lunch with my father, who seriously cracks me up sometimes.
Sunday
Goddamn it, Kirk.
I'm sorry. I totally forgot what other witty things might have made a good title for this entry.
Hi everybody! I was on vacation! To the Pacific time zone! The boy and I spent a bunch of time in the San Francisco Bay Area, hanging out with the Kirk and Mary-Jane. It was pretty good! You know, except for the part where the day after arriving I came down with a massive illness IN MY FACE. I don't know. I guess it was a cold. But there was all sorts of mucus and maybe fever, and at several points I wondered if I might die. So there was a bunch of days where I did nothing but stay in bed.
Luckily our hotel was really pretty and excessively girly and nice to be in. With a fireplace. And cable tv, so I got to see all the Pope Funeral that I could handle. And apparently, I can handle a lot. I just found it massively entertaining. If I'm ever religious, it's for all the ritual. All the chanting and the robes and the incense, man ... I don't know why anyone would want to be a religion other than Catholic. So cool.
There were also lots of cats. (And a doggy.) And important mailing of postcards. And I lost a bra and a pair of underwear. I'm not sure where or how.
I also lost my wallet in Sausalito, though I managed to locate it again. LUCKY.
I also lost my hat. Which is very upsetting. This is the one I blogged about, which most of my visited friends got to see (though I don't know if Kirk did). I was doing really well with keeping track of everything right up until the last minute and then everything fell apart. Maybe because I was so exhausted from the transportation and hauling and sickness. But, my hat is either stolen or in Boston right now. Tomorrow, Amtrak will tell me if I can get it back. I hope I can.
Before we headed back to the proper coast, we stopped for an interlude in Las Vegas. We stayed at Caesar's Palace! Naturally. That place was really nice. My bathroom had a bidet. I have never been so excited. Actually, everything was very nice and pretty, but also ... fake. Really fake. And there you go!
The important thing was that we got to hang out with the Spish! Bay-bee!! I've hugged Irina! She has the most entertaining baby face. Frankly, I don't think there's a more wholesome infant on the market today. Order yours now! I also watched some fish with Saren, who is my buddy, and Harper, who is my smaller buddy.
Also, the hotel was huge. No, HUGE. Freaking huge, people. It took us twenty minutes to get from our room to where we were to meet the Spish, then another half an hour or so to get confused and lost and find our way out onto the street and then more time to get back again. Planet Hollywood is no good, and Arnold Schwarzenegger has girly manhands.
On the flight back to Baltimore, we had this excessively strange stewardess (pardon - flight attendant) who called all the girls "Angel" and all the gents "Gorgeous."
Now I'm back in New Jersey, and I'm totally bored. But apparently, a whole hell of a lot happens in two weeks of internet time. I think I know too many people.
Hi everybody! I was on vacation! To the Pacific time zone! The boy and I spent a bunch of time in the San Francisco Bay Area, hanging out with the Kirk and Mary-Jane. It was pretty good! You know, except for the part where the day after arriving I came down with a massive illness IN MY FACE. I don't know. I guess it was a cold. But there was all sorts of mucus and maybe fever, and at several points I wondered if I might die. So there was a bunch of days where I did nothing but stay in bed.
Luckily our hotel was really pretty and excessively girly and nice to be in. With a fireplace. And cable tv, so I got to see all the Pope Funeral that I could handle. And apparently, I can handle a lot. I just found it massively entertaining. If I'm ever religious, it's for all the ritual. All the chanting and the robes and the incense, man ... I don't know why anyone would want to be a religion other than Catholic. So cool.
There were also lots of cats. (And a doggy.) And important mailing of postcards. And I lost a bra and a pair of underwear. I'm not sure where or how.
I also lost my wallet in Sausalito, though I managed to locate it again. LUCKY.
I also lost my hat. Which is very upsetting. This is the one I blogged about, which most of my visited friends got to see (though I don't know if Kirk did). I was doing really well with keeping track of everything right up until the last minute and then everything fell apart. Maybe because I was so exhausted from the transportation and hauling and sickness. But, my hat is either stolen or in Boston right now. Tomorrow, Amtrak will tell me if I can get it back. I hope I can.
Before we headed back to the proper coast, we stopped for an interlude in Las Vegas. We stayed at Caesar's Palace! Naturally. That place was really nice. My bathroom had a bidet. I have never been so excited. Actually, everything was very nice and pretty, but also ... fake. Really fake. And there you go!
The important thing was that we got to hang out with the Spish! Bay-bee!! I've hugged Irina! She has the most entertaining baby face. Frankly, I don't think there's a more wholesome infant on the market today. Order yours now! I also watched some fish with Saren, who is my buddy, and Harper, who is my smaller buddy.
Also, the hotel was huge. No, HUGE. Freaking huge, people. It took us twenty minutes to get from our room to where we were to meet the Spish, then another half an hour or so to get confused and lost and find our way out onto the street and then more time to get back again. Planet Hollywood is no good, and Arnold Schwarzenegger has girly manhands.
On the flight back to Baltimore, we had this excessively strange stewardess (pardon - flight attendant) who called all the girls "Angel" and all the gents "Gorgeous."
Now I'm back in New Jersey, and I'm totally bored. But apparently, a whole hell of a lot happens in two weeks of internet time. I think I know too many people.
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