Back But Not Bitter

Well, first of all, I have to say that I have returned to my tiny apartment in one piece, although my love affair with United Airlines is definitely over. Yes, I know it was a flight to China filled with Chinese people but really---do you HAVE to lock up the toiletries before the flight even begins? And the food--disgraceful. One flight attendant, seeing my moue of distaste as I rolled back the aluminum foil, said, "I know what you mean, honey, we have to eat that too." Shite, badly seasoned, in small portions. This does not make me happy.

What did make me happy: The Dick's wild joy at seeing me. (Again, folks, that's the dog, not the boyfriend.) What did NOT make me happy: my landlady putting nails in the wall and "hanging" my artwork for me. But what the hell, she did fix the leaking air conditioners, so I should just be grateful. Another unhappy: my cell phone charger died, and since I couldn't find a replacement, I had to buy a new cell phone. And the little f@*ker at Carrefour sold me a phone WHICH TEXTS IN CHINESE ONLY. So today's triumphs will include marching down to Carrefour and making him eat it, while also picking up a lot of wire shelving. Did I mention that my new pad has no furniture and no storage--not even a closet? I am consolidating two big apartments' worth of crap into one much smaller place. I never realized before the importance of a linen cupboard to my sanity. Since I have seen--or spoken--to no one since I returned, the only thing keeping me half human is the DVD my sister thrust into my hands at the last moment. Yes, folks, I have watched half the first season of Here Come the Brides with deep enjoyment. I watched this show as a child with Sissy and she, in her eleven-year-old wisdom, would throw hissy fits about the women's hairstyles. "They didn't wear their hair like that!" she'd scream. Oddly, she never mentioned their heavy black eyeliner--it was the backcombing and bangs (particularly on Bobby Sherman) that made her insane.

Sissy has always been like that, a bit of a critic with an eye for anachronisms. Her comments on The Student Prince once made my father leave the room screaming in outrage, which I remember clearly as his screams of outrage usually made us scatter like leaves before an evil wind. But in this one case, he did the fleeing. It's just something that's in her, a deep-seated need to make sure everything is properly labeled. Upon seeing the first episode of the second season of The Partridge Family, she commented judiciously (again, age about 11) "Well, THIS particular episode was funny, but overall, the script still lacks depth." If you wonder where I get it from, well, I've just revealed the source.