We had a lovely time at a party on Saturday, exchanging gifts and eating Mexican. Yes, nothing says "Christmas" like margaritas and gas.
Tomorrow we leave, flying back home. Any pithy remarks I might have had for our journey home have been dashed upon the rocks, as we are flying home coach. Yes, coach. There is something wrong in the world when someone with nearly a quarter million miles this year alone can't get bumped up front.
I could be like Susan Smith and blame the black guy and just say it's all Obama's fault, but I don't feel like being a tea bagging butt hole tonight.
I would write more, but my friends have Clear, which is by far the worst Internet connection I have ever seen. And I have been to Asia and New Zealand, where speeds are abysmal. It's taken more than half an hour just to upload that crappy picture of the Christmas tree you see here.
They are switching to Comcast on Wednesday.
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