I'm in ye olde Iowa after an entirely uneventful trip -- and so far I haven't contracted any strange new illnesses, so I'm considering this a success! And I even left the apartment ten minutes earlier than I had planned this morning; verily, my preparation for this trip astonishes even me. Terry was kind enough to drop me off at the airport on her way to work (sort of), and my premier status on United meant that I got through check in and security with plenty of time to get a latte and stroll to my gate. It also meant that I got upgraded to first class, which was lovely -- I can report that the other half lives on complimentary pseudo gourmet food served with table linens, and that they get little ceramic dishes of warm mixed nuts (in the edible culinary sense, not in the 'Lance Armstrong is missing one of these' sense). I can also report that I can't quite touch the floor in first class, which is pretty much the story of my life. I had a lovely conversation about e-publishing with the man sitting next to me, then proceeded to write three or four pages of the young adult book (which I should really brainstorm a title for someday, since its code name in every document I have for it is still 'gargoyles' even though gargoyles have no role in it).
We landed in Denver on time, so I killed a couple of hours eating some more (mistake) and typing up the pages I'd written out in longhand on the plane. I didn't get upgraded to first class on the way to Des Moines, so I survived sitting with the peasants by sleeping (and dreaming of a plane crash that would silence the incessant screams of a child two rows ahead of me who seemed to be screaming just for the hell of it rather than out of true pain or frustration). We got into Des Moines early, but my parents and brother were miraculously early to pick me up; I was half expecting them to still be out shopping, but they were in the terminal when I arrived. They didn't have a fatted calf to slaughter in my honor, so we went to Johnny's Italian Steakhouse and ate some of their fatted calf instead. Or rather, we had calamari (which is wholly unrelated to beef, for my vegetarian readers who are confused about such things), my parents had steak, I had a pasta with a spicy sausage/tomato/mushroom sauce, and [censored] had his usual chicken alfredo variant. And then we drove home and my family enjoyed quizzing me on whether I noticed the one new thing that we passed, since I notoriously don't really pay attention to things that we pass on the road. I actually knew immediately what was different -- for the first time, there are now crossbars and flashing lights at the railroad tracks near our house, which means that theoretically you'll get some warning before being slammed into by a train, rather than having to stop, turn off the radio, look both ways, and hope you're not going to get killed. Yay for modernity.
Upon arriving home, I caught a brief glimpse of the dog that is trying to be adopted by my parents (and by that I mean it showed up this morning and is desperately friendly), but I allowed [censored] to take the brunt of his affection while I slipped into the house. My brother showed me a Jon Stewart clip about how the media is ridiculously over the top in its lack of regard for the Ron Paul campaign, and then I went upstairs and watched Letterman and Craig while messing around on my laptop. And now, I think I shall go to bed; it's my usual bedtime in California, which means it's 1:40am here, and I should probably try to get up by ten a.m. so that I can clean up and unpack before my mother hosts her garden club. Ah, small town life. Goodnight!
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