It's interesting I usually push for my international trips to be as long as possible in order to get the most juice out of the squeeze, but these short and sweet trips aren't bad either. It's sort of like eating the cherry and fudge off a sundae and throwing the rest away.
Houston airport has this really amazingly decorated Japanese restaurant that I am compelled to take pictures of each time I pass.
We stood at baggage claim back in Seattle for some time watching the dregs until they turned the conveyor belt off. I already knew what happened. There was a mint condition version of my suitcase remaining. Some knucklehead kid from a school group had clearly taken the wrong bag. This was especially funny because I've been using the same suitcase for like 15 years. I think Tom bought Angelica and I matching ones perhaps. It looks like total ass, all of the zipper handles are gone which I actually like because it makes it harder to open. So a person would have to be a special kind of stupid to confuse this never used thing for my green warhorse. We talked to the airline people and the police a bit. They returned it the next day but we were going to file a police report if they did not. That little puke better not mess with the half bottle of good tequila I have in there.
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