Saying goodbye, returning home

Spent the afternoon having to sort through all the photos I took that are on Vile’s Mac because his cd writer is kaput. Had to resize and optimise the ones I wanted and upload them to the web so that I’d be able to access them when I got home. Of course the next day Vile managed to reinstall his burner software and made me a cd with all the photos on it. Gah! Could have spent the afternoon snuggling or playing Unreal with him instead of getting frustrated on the pooter. Poop.

Mum and Dad came online at one point and we were able to wave at each other on the web cams. It was much more fun being on the same side of the cam as Bill. Not that it’s not horrible being so far away from my folks too, but I really don’t want to have to go back to only seeing a blurry Bill framed by a little grey box. Suppose I should be thankful for that technology though really. *sigh*

All too soon it was time to hug Quince goodbye, put my suitcase into the car and head off towards the airport. Set off a little early so we could have one last meal at Grant Central Pizza. (Yep, another spinach and feta pizza, delicious.) Was all sad and stuff.

Got back into the beamer and were on the way to the airport when we got stuck in a huge queue of traffic. Could see multitudes of flashing lights up ahead and in various offshoot roads. Turned out to be the local police spot checking for Driver’s Licences and car insurance. Seemed to take forever to get through it and US police certainly seem a lot scarier than the ones I’m used to.

Every so often you’d see a car do a quick u-turn and high-tail it out of there, though Bill reckons that the police account for that and such folk get easily picked up down the road. Good.

We’d been hoping that we’d have time for a coffee at the airport but thanks to that mess of police business we got there somewhat later than we should have done and I had to go straight through security. Dammit. Did not want to let Bill go. Bloke seated before security noticed this and told me to “go get a hotel” as I went past his post. Grrrr. Got all embarressed and flummoxed and went through security all of a whirl again. Wanted to look back at Bill but was all upset and scatty. Dammit. Forgot to take my purse out of my pocket, set the alarms off and had to go be individually searched.. Couldn’t look back and see Bill. Not fair.

Weird, some of the people in front of me were made to take their shoes off and put them through the x-ray machine. One man them set the alarm off too and had to be taken to one side. He complained loudly and bitterly about having no shoes and standing on the cold floor. Staff simply then ignored him and checked the people after him (ie me) first. Hee.

Not a fun flight home, but at least it was only seven hours instead of nine and a half. Didn’t manage to sleep much and watched a very dull film As Good As It Gets *yawn* All the other films were the same as the ones they showed on the flight out. Poop. Was rather miserable.

Back in Manchester flight landed on time and I thankfully made it to the bus stop to catch my coach back to Plymouth on time. Cue another eight hours of being couped up on public transport. Ugh.

Daddy picked me up at Bretonside Bus Station, bounced lots and gave him a big hug.

Got home, phoned Bill.

Managed to stay awake until bedtime in an effort to try and force my head to return to normal scheduling. Didn’t really work as I then slept for practically all of the next two days

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