What are they trying to say, do you think?
Perhaps this is related to the fact that every single book I've checked out this year has been turned in late. It's to the point where I don't like to check out books on The Texan's card, even if he's standing right there with me, because I don't want to sully his record. I swear with all the fines I've paid, I should get a plaque or some acknowledgement as a major funder for their recent renovation. Sigh. The sad part is that I probably still will turn in the books late.
Part of that is because the books aren't actually in my possession. The Texan and I, despite having mailed gifts directly to my parents' house, still were at (respectively) 45 and 47.5 pounds for our luggage on the way over. As frequent fliers know, this is a bottle of lotion away from the weight limit and thus fines. So since we were so close, we decided to mail back a bunch of the gifts that we'd received and also a few other things to lighten the load for the return trip, including library books. I'm hoping they actually show up soon.
It was a good holiday. We spent the first couple of days in the San Fran area visiting friends and taking the BART into the city for a day. Our trip should've taken 45 minutes but ended up being nearly an hour and a half, as all trains were delayed due to "a police action in West Oakland." Of course there was.
We did a harbor cruise as neither of us had done one before. For some reason, the baby waves were killing me - I spent the whole time huddled in the back of the boat, popping ginger pills. Then we were going to walk up to a trolley to go to Union Square so that we could buy a KNGY CD (available only in Bay Area Best Buys!), but we got derailed into a bar where the bartender not only listened to KNGY in the morning but loved to talk about the DJs as much as we did. We spent fully 40 minutes going, "And then remember the time when Greg said...And remember their stupid intern who claimed...And then Fernando left the event early..." which was enough to keep us on a track to stay for a couple of hours, leaving only to get Indian food and stagger back to the BART.
The drive down to LA wasn't that bad, especially after we stopped somewhere in the San Joaquin valley to get Burger King for lunch (where, I shit you not, they had a special seating section reserved solely for bus drivers, and where presumably said bus drivers could share war stories).
Seeing the family was fun and a little tiring as trips always are. It wasn't helped that I came down with an annoying cold - nothing serious, but which seriously zapped my energy. The thing about my parents' house was that it was set up for 5 people - us three kids and my parents. Now, when everyone's there for the holidays, we need to find a way to sit 8 people down for dinner/TV/etc, which can be challenging. We eventually found a buffet style seating worked the best.
Anyways, it was great seeing the family and then it was great to be back home. Shrapnel hasn't left my side since we got here and even as I type is meowing inconsolably at my feet. (We had someone come hang out with him twice a day while we were gone, mind you, so it's not like he was neglected. Give him a couple of days and this affection will have worked itself out of his system.)
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some holiday cards to write. My thinking is, as long as they get postmarked with Dec. 31, I'm cool.