01.07.02 :: 5:10 pm


it's in the moments when I'm in the backseat of My Boy's mother's SUV with My Boy, listening to her go a mile a minute from subject to subject for hours that I get completely paralyzed with fear at the fact that she will become my family.

But thank God she lives in Florida. That is all.

A crazy, crazy four days it was.

Friday morning they bumped us out of our seats because we arrived not exactly two hours before boarding, but a half hour afterwards because of alarm clock ignoring. though, I must say, I have never in my entire documented life gotten out of bed and dressed and packed and out the door in ten minutes. Never. Which also explains why I packed only the clothes on my floor in my immediate vicinity.

So anyway, upon realization that we were not getting on the 7:20 AM flight, and that we had six hours to kill until the next flight, we became resourceful little bunnies and bought magazines and then said "fuck this shit," and hopped a light rail to the Jersey Gardens Mall. Where I bought a new work outfit. Go me.

We got to fly First Class to Florida, by the way. Because it rules like that when you get your original seats ganked. First Class with two free meal tickets in the airport each (used for breakfast and a sushi lunch) and $300 each towards a round-trip ticket anywhere. Vegas, we're thinking. Maybe someplace warm, though. We'll see.

Anyway, Florida was Florida save for the fact that his older brother was there with his wife, who'd been enduring the insanity for five days already.

Hot tubs, check.

Booze, check.

Early morning rise-and-shines to eat breakfast somewhere whatever-inconsequential, check.

Was it relaxing? Hell, no. And My Boy and his brother nearly crossed their threshold of pain with her a few times.

But, hey, we rode bikes the other day in 70 degree sunshine so no complaints here.

I will just wait another year to experience it again, though.

Other than that, back to the vicious cycle of work tomorrow.

Oh, Thursday evening, upon seeing Miss Fiona K on the subway, I am calling together a meeting of the Nunnery at Don Hill's on Saturday night, come hell or high water.

These feet haven't danced with their feet in a dog's age. Let's go ladies. Miss Taint is awake and ready.

And we're this much closer to celebrating the new domicile as well. January 19th is the date of the bash.

This pleases me. If not for any other reason than we're decorating the downstairs bathroom in a pirate motif. You bet your sweet ass fishing nets and a naked mermaid are involved.

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