Wendy is a good travel buddy. A personal, pocket-sized, private travel buddy who is cool with whatever sites you want to see and whatever wierd local food you want to eat. She slept on the plane for most of the flights, coming and going. That is, she collapsed in an exhausted heap after spending the first hour of each flight trying to escape under the seats, squeezing the arm fat of the woman in front of us, and ripping/ eating the pages of the SkyMall magazine.
My favorite part was the arm fat. No. I take that back. My favorite part was when she woke up as we were decending into Philadelphia, pressed her nose to the window, and described (in her best stage holler) the lights carpeting the land below us as "PRIDDY! PRIDDY! PRIIIIDDDDYYYY!!!!"
It takes me a while to get my head screwed on straight after I get home, or after Jaimie's been here. I know it's the same for her. It's more complex than when we were kids, because we now both have progeny of our own, and we are both going through grown-up real-life stuff that complicates our lives and we both wish we could help the other with. And we still do and will help each other, in the capacity that one can over the phone...
And here's where I take out the violin and talk about how sad I am about the people I love living far away. And how I miss all of them. And how I wish my sister and dad and best friend could be more a part of all the things going on with me right now. Can you hear it? It's very violin-y.
It's good that I have the finding of a suitable day care and going back to work soon to keep me busy. And by "good," I of course mean "Doom, doom, doom. Doomy doomy doomdoom doomdoom doom, God I wish I was back in Colorado right now eating sushi and drinking a white chocolate mocha latte, doom doom."
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