Home

Clean. Not having to ration conditioner is fantastic.

Sick as dog from a cold.

Left subtemporomandibular lymph node size of duck egg. Right one only size of robin egg. Do not know why. Does not appear to be strep. Unlikely can call in for avian flu. Hoping I have a voice by tomorrow night because as of now, I do not have one.

Joy in being back with furry ones.

Stories to tell, pictures to post. For the next (god I HOPE this is the case) 18 hours, I intend to be unconscious, blearily waking only for sips of water, only to return to peaceful slumber. Big doses o benadryl, and ibuprofen substance. So stories do need to wait for that, and I will be returning to work tomorrow. I thought about work for 7 minutes this trip. Filled me with blackened dread and visions of a set of pursed lips and prim huffiness. Drove vision away with another cafe au lait. Hope I remember how to do job. Hope I remember where job is. Worries for tomorrow afternoon, to be sure.

My head hurts badly, my neck hurts badly. And I do not tend to be a wuss about things that hurt. I didn't bitch about the bleeding feet, and I'm hating this.

Paris fabulous. Italy fabulous. American Airlines sucks ass.

Know what though? Delighted to be on home soil. Mixed feelings of happy that I can understand majority of conversations in my earshot and that people stand in line here, and pickpockets are less bold....and sinkingness that Americans are obese, entitled (Okay, the French are at least equally as entitled as we are.), often rude, horrible sense of ...una bella figura. Which is not at all the same thing as wearing a stupid Prada bag. Una bella figura has a lot to do with respect, too, methinks.

Miss jalapeno peppers over scrambled eggs and cheese and salsa.

And a crappy bottomless cuppa.

It is good to be home. With my kitties, who have been smiling and purring since I got home.

Unconcsiousness awaits me. Missed you guys.