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Homecoming
Jan. 6th, 2006 08:27 amWell, I'm back.
The trip from San Diego was largely uneventful. There were two legs to the flight, the long haul from SD to Chicago and then a short hop down to St. Louis. The former arrived at Concourse C, and the latter departed from Concourse F; this led to an interesting exercise in broken-field speed walking, one of the few sports that I'm actually good at.
(Broken-field speed walking involves getting from point A to point B as quickly as possible, with the intervening space filled with people of various sizes, moving in various directions at various speeds. Points are deducted for causing any of these people to speed up, slow down, or change direction, with major penalties for physical contact or being cursed at. This last is especially true with regard to the small number of these people who are armed. Style points can be gained for doing this while encumbered with a briefcase.)
The flight attendant on the short hop expressed the hope that, though the seating was rather cramped, we would enjoy the flight anyway.
The dogs - or, more specifically, Murphy - had made something of a mess in the house, which mess I have not yet completely cleaned up. Both of them were predictably clingy for some time after my arrival; whenever I stopped moving, Murphy would begin licking my ankles. When he tired of this, he went into the living room and pooped on the floor. I cleaned it up and expressed my disapproval; after waiting a suitable interval, he did it again. I suspect that this behavior was rather like that of the proverbial mother, who first engulfs her returned-runaway son in a smothering hug, then whacks him upside the head for worrying her. At least I hope this is the case.
Time for a grocery run. (My weight, as of this morning, is 193.5 lbs, considerably better than I had feared.)
The trip from San Diego was largely uneventful. There were two legs to the flight, the long haul from SD to Chicago and then a short hop down to St. Louis. The former arrived at Concourse C, and the latter departed from Concourse F; this led to an interesting exercise in broken-field speed walking, one of the few sports that I'm actually good at.
(Broken-field speed walking involves getting from point A to point B as quickly as possible, with the intervening space filled with people of various sizes, moving in various directions at various speeds. Points are deducted for causing any of these people to speed up, slow down, or change direction, with major penalties for physical contact or being cursed at. This last is especially true with regard to the small number of these people who are armed. Style points can be gained for doing this while encumbered with a briefcase.)
The flight attendant on the short hop expressed the hope that, though the seating was rather cramped, we would enjoy the flight anyway.
The dogs - or, more specifically, Murphy - had made something of a mess in the house, which mess I have not yet completely cleaned up. Both of them were predictably clingy for some time after my arrival; whenever I stopped moving, Murphy would begin licking my ankles. When he tired of this, he went into the living room and pooped on the floor. I cleaned it up and expressed my disapproval; after waiting a suitable interval, he did it again. I suspect that this behavior was rather like that of the proverbial mother, who first engulfs her returned-runaway son in a smothering hug, then whacks him upside the head for worrying her. At least I hope this is the case.
Time for a grocery run. (My weight, as of this morning, is 193.5 lbs, considerably better than I had feared.)
