38,000 Feet & 38,000 Thoughts
We are scheduled to land into Houston about 15 minutes early which could be a good thing if they have a gate for us and a bad thing if we sit on the tarmac for 20 minutes. In either case, I’ve got 42% battery life on my laptop.
A quick shout out to my dear friend, “working mom” who together with her husband has decided to open a business. “All things are sweetened with risk” reads a porcelain enamel box that sits in the False Auntie’s library. I am confident in her assured success and look forward to becoming an investor.
Some Doctor stuck a balloon up Shakes’ nose to blow up her sinus’ in a procedure so cutting edge that she’s been interviewed by one of the networks. Loopy from pain meds, she says she feels amazing. I can’t see how, but then again I have functioning sinuses and a cat that makes a home on my neck every morning.
My born-again Denver friend faces surgery on March 16th and will have at least a month of recovery while family members rotate in and out, myself among them, to help with her two children. I’ll likely have to elbow a few Deacons out of my way when I start the Long Island Ice Tea drip into her vein.
Caylee Anthony’s mom Casey Anthony will not get the death penalty in Florida, this, I believe in exchange for her full confession of what happened to her daughter. The interesting thing about high-profile trials is that even without her confession, there’s enough evidence to draw reasonable conclusions and you have to wonder does it even matter? Knowing the play by play of how that child ended up in a trash bag doesn’t to anything to avail the senselessness of her death.
I wouldn’t give a million dollars to see OctoMom giving birth to her litter, or for the bizarre privilege (?) of seeing her nude. I would however help raise a million dollars so that those kids stand a chance and so that I don’t have to see her on TV again. Ever. My mom thinks she should have to place them for open adoption. To her point, California has enough on their considerable tax plate without having to provide for OctoMom and her 14 kids.
I’ve boated out of Clearwater Pass more times than I can count; I had a boat when I lived in Florida, a 19 ft Sea Ray Bow Rider and I can remember going out a little farther than I meant to when the water would unexpectedly pick up chop. I can’t think that those football players are still alive but I hope they are. I pray for it in fact.
Descending into Houston now, the lights of a gazillion republicans (hee, hee hee) shimmering from below, seemingly suspended between the black earth and sky. My ears are popping and I’m sure I’ve not written anything tonight that is really worth posting.
It’s like that sometimes.
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