Alright, I get it. You don't like the dulcet tones of Jenny Lewis and you certainly don't give a shit about how Music Monday is presented. That's ok, I get the message. You're lucky I'm such a nice person, or else I'd curse you with the autoplay so that you were blasted with each Monday's chosen theme/band just for visiting without any action on your part. I hate that myself, so rest assured, that won't happen.
The Dude and I decided to live on the wild side yesterday, and booked ourselves on a flight to the mighty Pennsylvania in two weeks' time. We'd been hoping to go for awhile, but were deflated by the absurd prices - £1750 for the three of us. That's $3500 American dollars right there. Nearly $4000 for two adults and a small thing to be crammed into a tiny metal tube hurling through space for 6-8 hours at a time. Not surprisingly, we were rather turned off by this.
We realised that we had some air miles accumulating in a deep dark chasm somewhere, courtesy of using a certain credit card and shopping at a specific supermarket. The flights altogether came to less than it would have been for just one of us to fly. Viva capitalism!
For any of you that may come to this blog and roll your eyes in annoyance with what I say, sit down, put your feet up and smirk at this little fact - my child, energetic, spirited product of a petri dish and the talents of a hot young Greek embyrologist, sprung from my loins - will not have her own seat on the flight over. That is to say, she will be lapbound for the journey to Philadelphia. 7 hours of wriggling, smacking, hair-pulling agony, and that's just me. Help. This may be the death of me, and I won't yet be 30. Do me justice in your memorials and eulogies please.
I am looking forward to so many things once I get there, if I get there - our favourite local cafe, thunderstorms, the weak dollar, Old Navy, Red Lobster, American TV, showers, yard sales, and something else...what was it...oh yeah, family. Them as well. My Mom has managed to cheat death thanks to the Ferret Stroker's bad aim with his pellet gun, though P's blow-up swimming pool is no longer with us. I pray for the Ferret Stroker's own safety that he doesn't pull any stupid shit when my kid is around, or else I shall commit many violent physical acts against his person.
Now, I just need to get through the next couple of weeks of work, a struggle at the moment. I spent my working afternoon today being patiently authoritarian for 10 minutes, then spending the rest of my time in a menage a chat with Molly and DD. They give good chat, those two, particularly together.
Less than two weeks 'til Brain Trust, two weeks 'til Brain Trust...
16 comments:
I'm thinking you should come by way of Chicago. I'm just sayin'.
It's true that I don't actually care too much which format you use (though the new snazzy one was interesting. I am guilty of not always clicking on the videos but I scroll through to see which songs you picked. In this case, Jenny Lewis and Rilo Kiley are some bigtime loves of mine, if for no other reason than "The Good That Won't Come Out" which was my ultimate infertile anthem and can still make me cry and scream. Brilliant fucking song.
NYC is just not that far from PA. PLEASE? A visit? Your money is too impossible for regular users of the dollar so you know we won't be coming that way anytime soon. I could rally the New Yorkers for a gathering....
Oh, man! We're going to be all the way down in Florida and South Carolina for all but one week of the summer... maybe something will work out during that one week though? I could even find a way to come up!
What dates exactly will you be traveling? You may just barely miss the most awesomest (okay, only awesome) event in this neck of the woods.
Wohoo for American yard sales. Though I'd like to see you get your haul back on the plane.
Red Lobster?? RED LOBSTER???? That's just all kinds of wrong.
Too bad you're not coming by way of Massachusetts. I'd get you some real lobster, not that frozen King Krab shit they serve there. They don't even give you real buttah, ferchrissake.
If you road trip out to Chicago to see Aunt Becky, I promise I'll come down and visit ya'll.
Please?
On the bright side, paying for a ticket probably would have been a waste because she probably would have wanted your lap the whole time, anyway.
A long plane ride with a two-year-old. Godspeed, my friend.
duuuuuuuuuuude.
just sent you an e-mail.
for reals.
A lap child? Across the Atlantic? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Seriously, though, we have a lovely mental hospital nearby. Call me. I'm taking my two to Seattle and back this month, so I'll probably be there too. We can be roomies.
7 hours on a plane with a toddler. OOOOOKAAAAAAY. May the Force be with you on that one.
Oh good, more Brains Trust reports to look forward to!
(Don't ask me about music right now. My computer has loudly declared that it is five years old already and can't be having with streaming video).
I am hideously jealous of your stateside journey. I can't even tell you how bad I need a breakfast at Dennys right now.
You are headed to one of my favorite parts of the US. Enjoy yourselves. :-)
ah yes. think I look forward to flying to London in January from the West Coast with Monkey all by my lonesome? Not so much. And that child will definitely be on my lap b/c I cannot fathom paying nearly a thousand dollars for her to have her own seat. Even if it very well may be the death of me. lol. End rant.
Sweets, I wouldn't do Florida without Bella in her own seat after the age of 12 months. So I, um, pity you? And bring along money for those little bottles. For ALL of you.
And HOW LONG WILL YOU BE HERE AND WHERE WILL YOU BE???!!! Because I'm thinking if there ever was an excuse to get my ass to Free Music Friday at the World Cafe, this is it.
*sigh*
You get to go to Old Navy.
You fabulously lucky bitch.
*sigh*
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