Well, the Business Class glory of my flight over was not repeated for my flight back. I was back in steerage, where we may not have much money, but by golly are we scrappy!

It made for an interesting metaphor, though. On my way to my vacation, I sat in ultimate comfort, I could stretch to my full height, covered in a huge blanket, pampered and petted--I was cradled in a womb of indulgence and it was all a surprise, it was all a gift.

On the way back, I am shoehorned in the back of the plane in a row with a small screaming child (a bit older than Bonnie), crowded, jostled, the man in front of me lying in my lap, a blanket the size of a moist towelette, on 2 1/2 hours of sleep and no way to nap. Womb of indulgence? You don't deserve any fucking womb of indulgence! Now eat your cold cereal!

On the way over I didn't have to go back to work for nearly three weeks, on the way back, I was going back the next day. O, the irony.

So, on Tuesday, I finally saw Diane Patterson on her home turf.

Yes, after going to other countries to avoid me for the last two years, I at last dragged her out (along with her womb of indulgence, which is pretty small--I expected her to be a whale from how she talked).

We met at a joint called Priscilla's across the street from Bob's, down the boulevard from my house, where you have to toast your own bagel. Diane said that it was an industry hangout, which was confirmed by the fact that every single person there was either scribbling on a yellow legal pad or learning their lines. Except for us. We were talking about movies.

Fortunately, Diane either hadn't read my journal since I had been home, or else she skimmed, because otherwise we wouldn't have had a thing to discuss, movie-wise! Of course we also discussed journals and babies, because you always talk babies with a pregnant woman (whether they want to or not! "Talk babies with me, or I'll insist upon touching your stomach!"), and I gave her nuggets of my vast experience as a woman who, um, lives adjacent to children.

It makes me laugh the way I sometimes go on and on like I know what I'm talking about, especially when I'm talking to someone who really does know what she's talking about!

Afterwards, I went home and proceeded to not pack for hours and hours, instead reading two and a half weeks worth of piled up LA Times' and taking down the Christmas tree while watching my Eddie Izzard tape (excellent background for tree dismantling).

Taking down the outside lights was the work of but a moment, especially since the bulk of them had fallen down when it rained on New Year's Eve, but I still managed to get a splinter in my palm while doing so.

Went to bed at 1.30a, but I was so jazzed that I didn't go to sleep for an hour and got up at 5a to make my 8a flight. O how I miss taking flights out of Burbank rather than LAX, I could sleep later then!

An announcement on my flight:

"Ladies and gentlemen, it has come to our attention that the audio in your armrests is not working, so we are going to have a vote regarding the movie. We can either not have a movie or we can turn up the volume in the cabin so that everyone can hear it. If you do not want to hear the movie, press your call button. The movie is For Love of the Game."

(ding ding ding)

"Okay, I see on, two, three, four...okay, we will not be showing the movie today. However, I sing, Patrick dances and Andy tells jokes so during the flight we will be going up and down the aisle singing, dancing and telling jokes!"

Check out that horoscope below! Apropos for my first day back at work, I think.

Today's horoscope:
Be alert for a business opportunity or a chance to show your worth on the job. You gain respect.

One year ago today:
"What a buncha idiots!"

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Last Updated Thurs 6 January 10:23:09 2000