Tyra Banks is stupid. Not offensively stupid, but just enough to bug. I'm watching her in the middle of the night as I type this. I've never seen her show, but she's interviewing Lauren Conrad and I have a Hills fetish that I'm not proud of (shut UP), so the clicker stopped here.
Anyway, I'm back in LA after a near two week respite in the Midwest, and let me just say this: holy fuckballs am I glad I live in LA. Lemme 'splain.
My Dad decided he wanted to celebrate in Cheyenne instead of AZ, which I'm ok with since it's home. No matter that I'd have to fly into Denver and deal with winter, it doesn't seem right not to have cold on Christmas day. So it was set and I flew in on Dec 20th to avoid the rush, which worked well. I decided, after last year's follies, to bring everything on the plane with me to avoid the chance of lost luggage. So, I pulled out my little black roller bag that's just small enough to get on a plane (I'm well versed in TSA regulations by now) and loaded up. I went out and bought three ounce bottles for everything. I limited my clothes, included the much-needed sweaters, put things in plastic bags, and let my family know that, while I appreciate their generosity, presents this year would have to be small.
So I loaded up and made it past security just fine, suitcase, carry-on with my laptop, and my huge puffy winter coat. Which, out of my four flights I took within my time away, was the only time I attempted that. Sure, it was nice to know I had everything with me and wasn't at the mercy of the degenerate baggage handlers and had to waste time waiting and waiting and waiting to get my luggage, but the roller bag was ill-equipped to, well, roll smoothly when so overpacked, PLUS the laptop, PLUS the puffy coat. Enough.
All-in-all, traveling went fairly well this year. No delays in LA getting to Denver, I made it in in time to avoid huge crowds AND the Rockies snow on the 21st. Left for Mom's in NE on the 26th and got to hang at the airport with Jered, friend to many in our corner of the blog-iverse, since he was staying at his folks' across the street and had a flight a few hours after mine. The people at the Lincoln airport weren't dicks, which was a refreshing change. Even DIA wasn't too horrible to deal with. Of course, three of my four flights were delayed, granted not more than 45 min each time, but enough to make me glad I avoided connections.
I'll do a Part II about the actual visits, but I'm back in 74 degree weather. Thank GOD!
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