1) I’ve stupidly seen a lot of Real Housewives episodes recently (thank you, Southwest in-flight television), and I’d like to just tell you all here and now I’m simply not interesting enough to be a Real Housewife of Any City. Those women make my ears ring. Not that I ever had any dreams of being them, or meeting them, or having to be breathe the same catty-filled air as them, but on the off chance that anyone was wondering if I would make a good reality TV show, I can assure you I would not. I don’t care who issues an invite to whom for brunch. I couldn’t give a flying fig over some babe showing up at a party after she’d just talked smack about me at a party the weekend before. To that point, I’m pretty sure no one bothers talking smack about me. Though if they do, I’d be curious to what they’d say. Most likely something along the lines of, “Can you believe she cut in front of that person while she was getting on the bus the other morning?” Because honestly, sometimes I do that. I usually do not realize it until after the fact, and then for the rest of the bus ride I am filled with shame, worried that Stranger A will have a horrible day because some tall chick with freckles was kind of an asshole that morning. I don’t want people to have a bad day because I’m an asshole. That’s really no way to live.
2) I paid a visit to Ma and Pa McPolish at their winter home in Florida last month, post-work trip to Miami. You guys, Florida heat is no joke. It’s thick and humid and oppressive, and according to all the yelling on the local news, hotter than usual this time of year. I believe it, as I briefly dallied with the idea of taking a run outside one morning, because there’s the whole living in Chicago/no temperatures above 29.6 for too many months on end/etc thing, and the thought of running down the lane like Phoebe was utterly tempting.
And then I went outside and melted. And decided that maybe running outside, like Phoebe or otherwise, was probably not a good idea. Or really possible, considering I was a melted mess on the ground.
I really don’t understand how there are any people left in Florida at all.
3) The season of travel—wherein, for the past three months, I have been home all of two? Maybe three? weekends—has come to an end. I am more glad for that than you can imagine, because lots of travel means a lot of potential for plans going askew, like when United decided to cancel my reservation for my flight home from DC, and then every flight out of National was booked, and I ended up having to fly out of Dulles, with a layover in Dayton, Ohio. But let me tell you something about Dayton, Ohio, you don’t know. Their airport is teeny-tiny, but it is lovely and they have probably the nicest airport bathrooms I’ve ever seen, and free wifi.
Dayton airport for the win, you guys.