Wading Ashore at Leyte

I am returned. I could have returned yesterday, but it's hard for me to motivate when I'm not at the office. The temptations of the television and the book and the PS2 and the laptop, which burns through a day of HOI2 in about 10 seconds (and for a game that simulates every hour from 1936 through 1947, speed is sort of a bonus) are just too much to bear, and I tend to keep Internetting to a minimum on days off. I know that I should develop good habits and fix this problem. I know that you clamor for a dose of my clap every day of your otherwise colorless lives. I know, I know, I know.

Okay, quick news roundup: as noted in the last post, I elected, for reasons that really aren't any of your fucking business, except to the extent that I whined and bitched about this during the argument process, to prostrate myself before the magnificence that is my employer/customer, and settled for a lot less money than they should be paying me. I mean "a lot less" as in "half a car," and not a freakin' Ford Fiesta, either.

I survived the mother, and the mother survived me. I got considerable aid--to be fair, I'd have to say we both did--because there was a sports orgy on television from the time I got there until the time I left, and we spent any non-sports-orgy time eating or shopping. I did slip out for a couple of hours to visit the radical vegetarian Heel-fan commune occupied by the extended other side of my family (Dad's wife's relations), which also helped a lot. They even offered to take me to that night's UNC whupping of...whoever it was the Heels were "playing." They withdrew the offer when I refused to take off my bright red shirt with the big M logo. They were afraid someone would mistake me for a State fan.

For a change, my flight home on Saturday was not only on time, but early. So early, in fact, that I spent an extra 10 minutes lingering in the lovely smoking bar at RDU, which has wireless. It is appalling how many airports don't offer decent wireless access. I don't care about free--I just want it available. BWI just built a brand-new concourse for Southwest; it's not rigged for wireless. Who the fuck builds a new building in this day and age and doesn't riddle it with the right fixin's? Assclowns, that's who.

Anyway, I got to the gate 30 minutes before departure, and the flight was already half boarded. I still got an aisle seat, but it was touch-and-go, and I sure nuff didn't get an aisle seat in row 4, as my big ol' A boarding pass should have. Another day in my ongoing love affair with SWA.

I'm still catching up on politics and other blogs, and will be for a day or two. Fear not, something will soon outrage me almost as much as the lack of substance in this blog outrages you. Vaya con dios, cucarachas.