Hey kids... I'm back in New York visiting with the family and enjoying the brutal cold weather.
I'm also loving-to-death the MTA strike which makes New York that more fun and interesting. Who needs mass transit? When damp, 25-degree Manhattan wind is blowing, I want my skin exposed to that as often as possible. Nothing feels like Christmas in New York like the smells of roasted chestnuts, diesel fumes and homeless.
I'm head-over-heels about JFK airport. Smells of urine, sweaty travelers and Cinnabon... (ok, that last one smells pretty good) Apathetic staff... labyrinthine passages with indecipherable directions. It's a fantasy land. I could spend hours there. Oh yeah. I did. And Catherine Zeta-Jones didn't fall in love with me.
And I'm gaga over the New York attitude that I left behind all those months ago. Nothing says "Merry Christmas" to me like having my parking space usurped by an aggressive lady-shopper who chose to interpret my left-turn-signal not as the customary "I've got dibs on this spot", but rather as "since you're a bitch, go ahead and take my parking space. I'll keep looking. I've got all day. Besides, you're a cow with eight kids so you don't want to have to drag your obese ass across the parking lot. Sure. Take it. Happy holidays. Effing C-Word."
Also, TypePad has been munging/hosing its sites lately. So if you've been checking in here and seeing: missing posts, posts out of order, missing comments, missing images: it's THEM, not ME. Sorry 'bout that. *flips bird to TypePad*
Some bright news... I almost won a blogging award. Nothing like "almost" winning. Check out David Markland's blog here. I couldn't figure out a way to link directly to the post, so you'll have to scroll down to the "Blogger Who Most Inspired Me To Write" award. David had some nice things to say.
I'm scrambling out here in dealing with the holidays. I have a story or two to write about my journey. But first: Target beckons.