Tune In Tokyo

The entire population of Chicago was at O'Hare airport yesterday morning, as evidenced by the fact that EVERY SINGLE PARKING SPOT WAS FULL. At O'HARE. One of the BIGGEST AIRPORTS IN THE COUNTRY. All the lots were closed and attendants were sending cars to the international lots, which are in approximately Michigan and involve a complicated system of hitchhiking, buses, trains and secret passwords for the return trip to Airportland. So we burned half a tank of gas and drove in circles until it was time to say goodbye. Let's see, how to sum up this next part. Pretty much: crying, crying, hugging, sobbing, incoherent words, crying, crying, clutching, crying. Then we headed back towards the city to do what our family does in times of distress, which is eat our body weight in fried stuff.

We get a few miles away and then my phone rings with a call from a strange number. I pick up and hear sobbing and cursing on the other end of the line. And then, "OH MY GOD IS MY TICKET IN THE CAR?" Oh jesus, it's on the floor in the backseat. Shit! I swerve madly across three lanes of traffic to catch an exit and floor it back to the airport, where Wendi is surprisingly calm for someone who just had an $1100 brain fart. She grabs the plane ticket and gives us a jaunty wave. "Thanks! Bye guys! Don't worry about me, I'll be fine!" My dad, meanwhile, is trying not to have a stroke, and my mom is rubbing her temples. Somehow I resist the temptation to run in and plunk down my credit card for a ticket to Tokyo. All you bitches in Japan better play nice, you hear? Don't even MAKE me come over there and bust some heads. Punks.

My Nerdiest Moment of the Day
On my way out to meet some friends last night, I was flipping through the radio stations and landed on the country one. The Reba theme song was playing, and it made me cry like an Ohio Congressman. Because now I have to watch that show alone every Friday night, and that is just sad. On so many levels.

See Ted play. Play, Ted, play!
Aside from an ill-conceived Rush cover and a tad too much chitchat, Ted Leo was an excellent cure for my lonesome blues. Go here and snag "Under the Hedge," "The High Party" & "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone" to throw your very own anti-pity party. Or come over and we'll listen to them together. I have lots of room! And there's beer in the fridge! And, and, SNACKS! You can pet my cat! Or not, if you hate cats! I know I do! So, drop by any time, it's totally fine! Please?