Air France – Fly Me

We are on the way home now. The planes were overbooked for the return flight and we were offered a pretty good deal to take a later flight, but we are tired and just want to get home at this point. The whole plane smells pretty bad, all tourists get the same BO from not having regular laundry.

The meals were pretty god again, but the magic of the flight over is gone. We are tired from two full weeks of travel. At some point there is a transition from vacation, to travel. That is the point where the return home is welcome, and if you don’t reach that point, then you have been away for too short a time. Once you hit that point, further distance from home is no longer beneficial.

Christ these godless bastards are fucking annoying me on this flight. The 90 year old couple in front of us keep bouncing in their chairs each time that they move so much that I have to keep moving my drink and  laptop to keep both of them fro being crushed. If they start moaning I will finally know what has been going on, and where all my spare Viagra has gone.

it’s good to be on the way home. Yulia (who has recently objected to my habit of saying "the wife") has made friends with the  stewardess staff by mentioning the name of local doctors in Seattle that do botox. They think that is useful for some reason. Thank God the wine keeps flowing or this would be truly unbearable. The woman next to me got the vegan meal earlier, and has that granola look to her such that I expect a speech about renewable energy from her, or I expect her armpit hair to throttle me at any moment. 

We only have a few hours left. my plan is to keep scamming booze and pretzels with the promise of plastic surgeon numbers until we pass out, then my mom can arrive and scrape us off the sidewalk. Or something like that.

 UPDATE: Shortly after writing the above on the plane, my wine was knocked into my keyboard by some unknown forces, I blame the couple in front and their geriatric gymnastics, Yulia says that I was a drunken spaz and did it myself. No proof exists, so I blame the old farts.

We are at home now. I have attached a keyboard to the back of the laptop and am extracting all the data, and the laptop’s own keyboard is in the kitchen after a quick vodka bath.

This is all from the vacation. We are showering and doing laundry now. I will change the cat litter later, as it smells better than our luggage.