Mostly Semantics

My trip home to Springfield, MO has been pretty nice and pretty fucking horrible all at the same time. Where to start?

The flight home was great. On my way to Chicago I sat next to these IT consulting assholes who were right out of college and had been in DC on business. Actually, they were kind of nice, the sort of people I can get along with just fine unless I have to spend any real amount of time with them. They/we talked about college, and how to play the consulting system, about how their jobs mostly consisted of recommending firing people in positions that can be outsourced, and about how they pretty much did nothing and/or shitty work but charged the client out the ass for such services. They both worked for the same company, one of the bigger ones, but had never met, and one guy was working on a big project with Washington Gas so I was like, hey, my bills pay your salary, so do good work damn it!

In Chicago I though I was going to get a seat with no one next to me. The flight attendant had closed the door and gone through the safety procedures when all of the sudden they let these two dudes on who were probably around 50 and 40 years old. I have never seen this done so close to take off before and though it rather odd. The stewardess went though the safety procedures again just for them, gave them both a bottle of water, and helped place their luggage in the overhead compartments. Wow, I thought, people normally get rushed and/or scolded even if it was because of a delayed connecting flight, which is what had happened to these guys. Later in the flight the older of the dudes, who had taken the seat next to mine, struck up a conversation and said that he was also surprsied that they opened the door for him so close to takeoff. He had been traveling from Hong Kong, where he works for VF Corp., which owns The North Face, via Greensboro, NC (where VF is headquartered), and was going to visit his parents in Springfield same as me. His job was to find people and materials in foreign countries so North Face can make gear in all sorts of different parts of the world. This dude was well traveled. Over 55 countries and not just for short periods of time or just one visit here and there. He had been doing this in Hong Kong for the past 10 years but had done it in Central and South American before that. The reason they let him in, he told me, is because he had a special black card that states that he has special membership for people who do over $100,000 of flying per year. Royal treatment.

Home is cozy and my parents stuff me with food. I’ve slept a lot which was very nice. I went on a walk with my Mom, my dog, and my cat. I’ve read a little, and last night and today I watched BSG with my Dad. Everything up to this morning was wonderful. Then I went on another walk with my dog and here’s where it gets, ug, well, not so fun. I was walking along in the woods and pushing back a branch when, whap, another tree branch hit me square in the head, right between the eyes. It didn’t hurt too bad and I didn’t think anything of it for a while. Then came the blood and it turns out I had a nice big gash on my noggin and blood went everywhere. I’m so embarrassed. It’s unsightly and makes me not want to see anyone or do anything until it goes away, if it goes away, which it better because I want to have a nice New Year’s Eve with Tweaks in southern North Carolina and not look like a freak. Normally I’m cool with cuts and bruises, but the location of this thing is just fucking ridiculous.

I also really wanted to get a hair cut when I got home, which actually means I wanted my Dad to give me a hair cut. He does a great job most of the time and it’s quick and easy, and, anyway, I was looking forward to it. I told him to leave it long, which he normally wants to do so I can comb it and look somewhat professional. I like it longer and messy now so my Dad, I thought, should be able to pull this off perfectly. But he did not and it wasn’t what I expected and it wasn’t what I really wanted and I don’t know how I feel about it because now I can’t use my hair to cover my unsightly wound because it’s too damn short.

Fuck the holidays.

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