Greetings from Missouri!

So, Ben Folds Monday night was pretty great. I wrote a review of it, which isn’t up yet–and neither is the one I did of Frankie Valli Sunday night, but all of my reviews and news articles for AXS can be found here.

Monday was mostly a lounge day, plus a little cleaning–despite what Paul and I accomplished the evening my parents came over, the apartment still needs a lot of work, and I didn’t want to be out of town for Brandon’s boot-camp graduation and leave Paul in a mess I knew he’d probably clean up, especially my hell hole of a kitchen sink. So I washed the worst of the dishes and cleaned the sink itself, and I’m hoping Paul doesn’t take it upon himself to do too much while I’m gone. A little is fine, especially easy tasks, but I don’t want him cleaning up all my messes. Or moving all my stuff, but at least he understands that.

Yesterday was mostly a travel day. My dad wanted to be at the airport super early because he has shrapnel in him from when he was injured in Iraq, so he was expecting–in part because he actually called TSA and they e-mailed him information on what to do–to take a little longer going through security. Turns out TSA doesn’t give a shit about metal in your head, or what prescriptions you’re coming through with, but they will sure as shit get pissy with you for forgetting to take your cellphone out of your pocket when TSA employees are all shouting things and making people confused and rushed. The fact that they’ve changed some regulations since the last time I flew doesn’t help.

We had a lot of time to kill, so we walked around a bit and hung out in a really nice military lounge, then had some lunch. I killed a little bit more time charging my laptop and getting online on that free WiFi a bit, and by then, it was time to board.

I sort of but not really slept most of the flight, which was short anyway, as well as smooth. I don’t sleep well on planes, mostly because it’s not exactly comfortable sleeping. If I’m sitting upright like that, my head sort of pitches forward, which just wakes me up. Not conducive to sleep at all.

When we landed, we picked up a rental car and headed into downtown St. Louis. All we really did was walk around a little and go up into the arch, because how can you be in St. Louis and not go see the arch? That would be stupid. It was a neat trip, though, where you take these tiny little trams up to the very top and can see out over the city–and you can see far. My dad pointed it out first on the plane, but everything is so flat out here, while back home we have mountains and hills everywhere. It reminds me of how flat Delaware was, except Delaware had the beach.

Traveling with my dad, by the way, is okay. I’m not thrilled, of course, and I’ll be glad to be back home at my own apartment with Paul–although I’m sure I’ll be craving some alone time. My dad’s not the greatest travel companion. It’s frustrating to share a hotel room with someone who thinks it’s totally okay to just turn on the TV when he’s awake and ready, no matter what time it is and no matter who’s still sleeping. I texted my mom and told her he’s an inconsiderate roommate, and she replied with, “Don’t I know it!” She’ll be enjoying her alone time, for sure. It’s just her and Duke.

We had about a two-hour drive to Brandon’s actual base. We checked into our hotel, visited the base real quick to check it out and grab some light groceries, then got dinner at Subway, headed back to the room, and called it a night.

Today has been a lounge day in the hotel so far. We had breakfast and will be heading out in probably two hours for family day on base. They’re having some drill ceremony, then Brandon will have a few hours to hang out with us on base. I know my dad wants to hit the PX.

So far, it’s a lot more relaxed than our trip last year for Jacob’s graduation. Part of that is because they did more for family day then and started it earlier, and the other part is it’s just two of us and not 10, and we’re not at the mercy of Paul’s melodramatic mom.

I like it better this way, even if my dad irritates me.


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