<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

November 01, 2005

* oof *

I used to say that it was a good idea to get out of DC at least every 90 days. Things get a little too serious and self-absorbed inside the Beltway, and I think this limits perspective.

Since Friday night, I've been helping my family move into a HUGE house out in the Midwest, and helping to care for my niece and nephew. Moving household, even if it is just a couple miles away, can be rather traumatic for small children. My sciatica is bothering me, I've been sleeping on the world's worst sofa bed (so I haven't been sleeping), but I'm not stressed out anymore. My nephew gave me a baggie full of his Halloween treats, and my niece was the most darling sweet baby. Mom of Whiskypants gave me a set of pale pink cordial glasses that she bought at the Wright-Pat AFB PX the first year my parents were married. I miss them already.

The flight back was a bit of a bust. The flight was full (Southwest - aka Cattle Call Airlines), and I had the misfortune to sit next to this man who must have been a mixture of Oscar the Grouch and Pigpen. He actually brought a plastic bag full of empty plastic bottles and cans with him, and asked the flight attendant for assistance with stowing his "recyclables". (He also smelled like onions and body odor.) Who the hell travels with their garbage? Besides the mentally unhinged? And I got to sit next to him... (Why God? Why me???)

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