Airports and planes are abuzz with holiday spirit of rushing and nastiness and “the air is safe now; i’m staying away from buses.” At Ft. Lauderdale’s Terminal 4 there was a two-hour-long line to the Air-Tran ticket counter that almost nearly turned into a riot thanks to yours truly, a young married couple from Delaware, a model toting a small terrier in a carry-on, and my 80-year-old grandmother. I still have yet to figure out which of the five of us managed to convince the other four not to pummel the people cutting in line to death with our luggage. Furthermore, i had a gun slightly inclined at me during the whole metal-detector ordeal, and i think one of the kids sitting behind me on the plane was trying to peel the other one’s face off while being beaten back by a bag of complimentary pretzels.
Yes, Christmas. Can you feel it? I have exactly 20% of my Christmas shopping done and our DSL hardware is in UPS limbo and my brain would have exploded in Florida if it wasn’t for Jill with her sensible car and our Mexican Cuban restaurant — you have to love a fine dining establishment that features entrees like “Chicken Chunks” and “Fried Beef” without qualifying them with any sort of description. None. Whatsoever. But, they had bitchin’ sombreros…
