But it seemed so natural, darling

I plop down next to an odiferous gentleman, bruises appearing on my arms, big toe a bit bloody where my suitcase disrupted the nail and admittedly smelling a bit 'athletic' myself(as we say in my family) from carting about 80 pounds of my crap through the subways and airport. Exhaling and just wishing to be back home already, I scan through JetBlue's tv system, hoping for ESPN and the score of the Wisconsin game. Halftime and up by only 3. Grumbling, I flip around a bit more and, stunned, land on the Big 10 network. I had to deal with smelly man's aroma, and he had to deal with my stifled yells and folded arms holding back fists that yearned to pump after every interception and touchdown. JetBlue can count itself back in my good graces.

I landed in Chicago and was swiftly escorted to my hometown which was celebrating not only LobsterFest (Lobster dinner + wine + live music + table decorating competitions = awesome) but also SputnikFest. This was almost too much for me to handle and I promptly fell asleep at 10 o'clock with visions of giant cows wrapped in aluminum foil mooing through my dreams. Pictures to come.