I know, I can barely believe it either, but against my better judgment, I decided to actually board my plane in Venice, succumb to my insensibilities and return to my "full-time job" and "life" in this wasteland of pleated pants, windbreaker fleeces and bad footwear we call Our Nation's Capital.
And, after a harrowing journey comprised of 24 sleepless hours, a 30-minute pre-dawn water taxi ride, a two-hour early morning flight, a four-hour wait in what must be the worst airport on Earth (the honor goes to you, Frankfurt, Germany), two inappropriate concentration camp jokes, a nine-hour flight in the cheap seats, two bad airline meals and one flat tire, I missed my final connection to New York City last night. So instead of two girls and a gay donning the three Venetian masquerade masks I brought back and gallivanting around Manhattan, I ushered in the New Year in my DC apartment -- alone and unconscious.
But don't feel bad. I love sleeping and hate people so I had a fine time and am now well rested and ready to blog. So brace yourself for some upcoming ultra-tight Italy-DC contrast-and-compare compositions, which
Yet what would such a breezy 24 hours be without one last snafu? It seems I am without the cord needed to upload photos from the digital camera to the computer, which means unfortunately you will have to wait to see some of my epic photog skills. Anyway, until then miei amori, stay gold like a Venice hotel room.