somniloquence

I am home, as of early this morning, and the less said about the trauma of yesterday the better, probably, otherwise I might devolve into a foam-mouthed pitbull of rage. Short story: flight cancelled from Dulles to Newark, which I only found out because I obsessively check the web site, one hour before we were to leave; can't get flight home for at least two more days, Keith wants me gone; decide to take train to Newark if I can get one, get on train as it's in final boarding; rush through Newark, have breakdown at ticket agent when I can't print boarding pass because of the schedule change; get through horrid security and rush to terminal to find out flight is late; keeps getting later in 15 minute increments; finally takes off hours late, longest flight ever in history of flight; plane is so hot that everyone is stripping down to their under layers except me; so dehydrated I can hardly breathe (3-hour train ride was hot, too); last suitcase off, though considering the day, still glad it came at all. And that's with all the extra fun stuff like empty gas tank left out.

Dad insisted on picking me up, which meant drive home took app. 3 years longer than it should.

There's a lot to do, but I just can't get the motivation to do it. My face hurts so much -- I don't know if it's something in my skin care routine being changed, getting sun and wind burned on NY's as we wandered around the Mall and memorials, or what, but my cheeks have the consistency of an orange rind and they really really hurt. I'm enjoying the colder air after all the overheating (because it was so bone-breakingly cold the whole time, it seemed like the transportation systems were in overdrive on the heat in pretty much everything I was on) right now, and drinking the violet tea I picked up in NYC, but... right now I just don't want to do anything. I'm so effing tired and kind of weirdly dispirited (this little misadventure cost me quite a bit of money I hadn't budgeted for).

But I have pics to post and stories to tell. And there's a whole Yuletide archive that I haven't even had the chance to look at!

Oh, and hey, the reveal happened during all this, too. So, I wrote two stories this year, which could not have been more different from each other: Safe for omphale23, a Band of Brothers extra from the pinch hit list about Winters and Nixon right after Eindhoven; and The Mirrorball Malefaction Misapprehension, my primary Yuletide story for Nomie (metonymy), a Middleman story about nefarious deeds on New Year's Eve. It sounds like some people enjoyed them, so I'm really glad, and I'm especially happy that a lot of people felt my Middleman voices were spot-on and the dialog sounded like the show. I can't tell you how much I agonized about that!