Home Sweet Home

Did you guys know that Continental now has flights out of Hell? I took one two days ago. It was pretty awesome. Of course, as you might expect from a flight out of Hell, it wasn't easy. We probably sat on the tarmac for 30-45 minutes while we waited for them to give us a place in line for take-off. I can just picture the conversation in the control tower.....

Satan: Heh...what do you guys say we mess with them a little before we let them take off? Make them think they're getting out of here, but then leave them sitting for so long that they start to wonder if they're ever going to get home?
Control Tower Crew: Hey, that's a good one, Big Guy!
Satan: Maybe we can even give the pilot periodic updates, so it seems like they're making progress, when they're actually still just sitting still.
Control Tower Crew: Wow, that's ingenious! You're on the cutting edge, O Evil One!
Satan: By the way, you guys DID tell Food Services to replace all of the real food on the plane with furry burgers and questionable-looking salads, right?
Control Tower Crew: Of course, Your Majesty, the Prince of Darkness and Despair.
Satan: Heh...they won't know whether to starve themselves for the 6+ butt-numbing hours they spend on that plane or risk salmonella and mad cow disease. I love my job.

In any event, we did finally manage to take off and 6+ hours after boarding our plane in Hell, we landed at Phoenix Sky Harbor. I can't tell you what a relief it was to deplane, walk down the breezeway and see Oscar and Papa Jo waiting for us. I also can't tell you how completely and utterly bone weary I was when we finally made it back to the house and put Turtle down to bed. Truth be told, I'm still fighting the exhaustion. Of course, that's only part of the reason I haven't posted yet.

I'm struggling with how much to say about this week-long journey to Hell and back. Part of me says that I should heed that old adage, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." (Which is what informed my response when Papa Jo asked me how the trip was and I shot back at him, "You don't really want me to answer that, do you?") The other part of me says that I should probably write about it, not only so I can process my emotions about the whole situation, but also because I am starting to forget who has heard the stories and who hasn't. It makes much more sense to get it all down and let you all, who have been so sweetly concerned about me, read about it in your own time. I'm sure in the end, I'll end up somewhere in the middle. I'll write about all of the big things and let some of the littler things slip by. But in the meantime, I just wanted to let you know that I am home, and you will be hearing from me again soon.