Neal's been constructing some huge, evil project in here, and now we have some sort of network put together using shareware that few people have successfully used for whatever the hell he's doing... all in our little office. I feel like I'm Pinky and he's Brain.
Me: "What are we doing tomorrow, Brain?"
Neal: "The same thing we always do... I'm holing myself up in the office for hours and hours while you stay the hell out of my way."
Me: "Okay!"
Anyway, time to post the fully-written entries that have just been languishing, striving to see the light of... of... your eyeballs staring at a computer. Here goes.
Man, I cannot believe I forgot to tell you the worst part of the flight home. I just didn't know it was the worst part until after the fact.
Little did I know, while I was suffering away in the crappy ass terminal waiting for plane after plane after plane, there was another Diarylander less than 100 feet away.
I read in her journal and found out she had a layover in Detroit during our delay. We started emailing and groaning - she and her family were waiting for their flight in the bar right across the hall. She actually watched my group waiting (and waiting and waiting) for our plane, and then right after we left, her family caught their plane (on time, by the way) from the same gate.
Argh! It's Mimi.
Mimi was the first journaller I ever emailed back and forth. She and I began at approximately the same time, and have been reading each other from the start. I would have loooooved to meet her, damn it.
One kicker is, if Mimi and I had known about the overlap ahead of time, we probably would have just blown it off, because if Neal's and my flight had been on time, we wouldn't have been there simultaniously.
The other kicker is, if I'd gotten more than 2 hours of sleep the night before and was my usual hyper, people-watching self (as opposed to my dreaming, drooling self), I might have recognized Mimi and her kids from photos.
Damn it.
Oh, well. You can't live in the past.
And besides, there's always Christmas.
