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Tuesday, July 6, 2010

day 5 of my excellent adventure

Here is Claire, reposing on the couch.

One more thing about day 4--Nate and I almost came to blows about whether or not the music of Counting Crows sucks. I think it does; he disagrees. I think they were one of the first champions of the singing-like-you're-pooping vocal style so relied upon by the kids today. But I haven't heard very much of their music at all, so Nate is justified in his claim that my criticisms are ignorant and possibly unmerited.

On to day 5! We went to church, where in Sacrament meeting there was a gender-estranged individual (Sharon Stone's hair, Heidi Montag-Pratt's post-surgery face, Nathan Lane's body), in Sunday School we discussed how many of the all-time top-grossing movies follow the story form of the Hero's Quest, and a lady who was the spitting image of Julie Bowen taught Relief Society. Woo! I wore my new ballet flats to the church and then changed into my black heels, because I learned my lesson from Babbo. My figure really doesn't allow me to wear flats with my pencil skirt, but I couldn't take the 13-block walk in 4-inch heels.

After church we had bread and fruit and cheese and smoked salmon, and I got ready to miss my flight. What makes me crazy is that if I had left a mere fifteen--ten, even--minutes earlier I would have made it, but I didn't realize that Delta's curbside check-in stations are all for show, and they don't actually staff them. This is embarrassing, but I will tell you anyway, because we're all friends here, aren't we? When I missed the sixty minute window to check bags and realized that I would have to get a different flight I cried a little bit in frustration. Tears running down my face and all. Not because I wasn't having fun, but because I hate the idea of ten minutes costing 300 dollars. But here's a neat detail: at any given moment, the line at the Delta counter of people who weren't allowed to check their bags and have to buy another flight is about forty people long. So you'll have company when you miss your flight, just like I did.

I took a cab back to Claire and Nate's apartment, and the cab driver and I had a lengthy discussion about basketball and dogs and how I looked too young to have four children. Thank you, nice cab driver!

This is an aside, but the fact that it's called a "romper" should be a strong indicator that a grown woman should not wear one. I will not be bamboozled by you, Lucky magazine!

3 comments:

Christine said...

I love rompers. But I'm 25 and not sure if that makes me a grown woman?

Tori said...

See...I have to agree with this Nate person on this one. I really like Counting Crows. Train, now there's a band I hate with all my being.

I think it's funny that there is an article of clothing called a romper, period. "Yeah, that's my romper. For when I go out on a romp."

Sarah said...

Missing your flight TOTALLY warrants tears.

Also? You do look too young to have four children.