Pity Party

Being single can be really good sometimes and it can really suck sometimes.

I was just reminded of one of the things I hate the most about being single: there is generally no one waiting for you at the airport when you arrive home from a trip. There have been a few times in my life when someone has been there, someone who has truly missed me while I was away and would never dream of waiting a moment longer to see me. On those occasions that person usually came up to me and gave me a huge hug and a kiss and took my bags for me and drove me home.

I lied, that hasn't only happened a few times. That is also what happens every time I fly into California- and sometimes there is even a lita (grandma) and a puppy there to greet me too, and if im really lucky there's a little man (my brother). But almost without fail my mom is there with a big smile, a hug, a kiss, a new hair cut and eventually a comment about my unwaxed eyebrows. (Remind me to be more apprecative of this on my next return to the golden state)

Today, instead of all this loveliness, I flew into Boston and was confronted with the realization that once again I forgot to ask a friend to come pick me up, my clothes are not warm enough, my bag is too heavy, my cell phone is completely dead, and I have run out of tissue to blow my damn sick ass nose with!

Thank god my work is right off the blue line (airport line) and I can access it on the weekend. So here I am, updating my blog in the hopes that claudia will call and come rescue me. If not I have a bag full of warm clothes to change into and a desk that I can burden with some of my heavier articles. Thus solving most of my problems- warmth and a lighter bag; the bacterial cold and lack of hugs, kisses and a ride home are going to take longer to solve...

by the way- Spain was great, more on that later.