"And I had to sell the car and go to Florida...
...because that's just my way of saying that I love you."
I meant to mention we were leaving. Really, I did. But I worked a night shift last Friday that ended around 3 a.m. and when I was done I didn't want to spend one more second with the laptop. And I sort of thought I might post from the road, but that didn't wind up working out either, obviously.
But I'm back. Words and pictures regarding my week's hiatus will be posted eventually at TomTomClub, but to tide you over, three moments from our trip where I realized that while I was probably brought up right, I'm not as completely well-bred as one might hope:
1: When I choked at Disneyworld as a woman in front of me in line sporting blond hair, black roots, a tank top that did nothing to cover the muffintop rolling over her low-rise jeans, and a giant tattoo on her right bicep of a skull with snakes coming out of it said to her male companion, "I can't BELIEVE the way they make people dress here. It's criminal."
2: When Mr. B-List and I both very nearly blurted "I don't want to hear your effing excuses" after the waitress at an IHOP where we lunched with a friend not only took our order twice, but then came back for a third round of questions about what we wanted, then complained to us about how people in the kitchen were yelling at her. Meanwhile, of course, the party at the next table over arrived after we did, ordered after we did, but ate and left before we did.
3: When I got an uncontrollable attack of the giggles upon encountering a family of midgets -- or whatever one is supposed to call them these days -- at the Imaginarium's "Tiny Town." Mr. B-List assures me this puts me solidly in the fourth circle of Hell. I'm not sure it was worth it, but not much I can do about it now!
That's enough for now.
I meant to mention we were leaving. Really, I did. But I worked a night shift last Friday that ended around 3 a.m. and when I was done I didn't want to spend one more second with the laptop. And I sort of thought I might post from the road, but that didn't wind up working out either, obviously.
But I'm back. Words and pictures regarding my week's hiatus will be posted eventually at TomTomClub, but to tide you over, three moments from our trip where I realized that while I was probably brought up right, I'm not as completely well-bred as one might hope:
1: When I choked at Disneyworld as a woman in front of me in line sporting blond hair, black roots, a tank top that did nothing to cover the muffintop rolling over her low-rise jeans, and a giant tattoo on her right bicep of a skull with snakes coming out of it said to her male companion, "I can't BELIEVE the way they make people dress here. It's criminal."
2: When Mr. B-List and I both very nearly blurted "I don't want to hear your effing excuses" after the waitress at an IHOP where we lunched with a friend not only took our order twice, but then came back for a third round of questions about what we wanted, then complained to us about how people in the kitchen were yelling at her. Meanwhile, of course, the party at the next table over arrived after we did, ordered after we did, but ate and left before we did.
3: When I got an uncontrollable attack of the giggles upon encountering a family of midgets -- or whatever one is supposed to call them these days -- at the Imaginarium's "Tiny Town." Mr. B-List assures me this puts me solidly in the fourth circle of Hell. I'm not sure it was worth it, but not much I can do about it now!
That's enough for now.