Airport Sittin'

Greetings from scenic East Boston! Currently it is a balmy 67 degrees, and we have a stunning view of a parking garage as we await boarding. So when I woke up this morning I was absolutely freezing, having left the window open last night. What is this comfortable sleeping weather bs? It's August, I should be shrouded in my own sweat. Hence our decision to visit the deep South. Lizzie picked me up around 7:30, and up until that time I was tidying up my apartment, just so my family wouldn't think I was a slob, should I decide to stay in New Orleans and marry an Alligator farmer, leaving them to manage my estate. We made it to the airport in record time (thanks to Mark), just in time to enter security after some folks who forgot to take off their shoes (flip flops). The TSA dude bellowed "YOUR FOOTWEAR" at the top of his lungs, which made everyone in a three mile radius take off their shoes, though I thought it was kind of adorable how they're trained to say "footwear". Like "TAKE OF YOUR SHOES" might not be all inclusive. "I'm sorry, what's your definition of shoes? These are clogs. I always consider 'shoes' to be the hard soled, leathery...oh, you shot me."

Anyway, we're going to fly up through Chicago, and then back down to New Orleans. I wonder we can count O'Hare as our visit to Illinois. I guess that'd be cheating.

Things we've learned about the people around us:

Navy blue shorty shorts are okay to wear with sweaters if you're a hundred years old

Fred had to pay $50 for his checked bag, even though everyone else only had to pay $15 because Fred is lying to the person he's on the phone with to make him seem more important. When the person on the other end of the call seemed to be implying this, Fred got really mad, and hung up. Fred, you're full of shit.

Wearing a yellow polo shirt with a chickadee decal and coral-colored shorts do not make you any less of a man...

Yelling WHERE ARE THE OUTLETS is not an effective way to locate said outlets.

See you all when we're in Central time!