Rock star

I returned from VA last night on a plane that got to the airport around 6:10pm. rang my phone while we were still docking with the mothership, to say that she was on her way to her corporate party (the route to which goes past the airport) and had brought a set of nice clothing for me in the event that my plane was actually on time. She came to the airport, I changed while waiting for my bags to emerge, and off we went.

Party was fun. Apparently “I make my own wine” is an even better small-talk conversation piece than “I make my own beer.” People dig it.

Who lives like this? Oh yeah, rock stars live like this. Of course.

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