So my uncle has no nose. Or maybe too much nose, I'm not clear. All that I know is that he's getting his nose roto-rootered out or something requiring surgery, which is putting a crimp in my visiting plans. (Oh, sure, it's nice to be able to see him and see he's ok and all that, but I don't know how cranky and/or unwilling to go out to nice lunch places with us and foot the bill. But all that will be resolved somehow.) Either this will be a good trip, or something out of a Gogol story.
Anyway, I shall be making a little trip and hope to stop by and see many different sets of people. (Waves.) If you're one of the people I'll be seeing, I'll be seeing you. If not, I will regale you, I'm sure, with silly stories on my return. And then I can throw myself into avoiding thinking about the job market by participating in the Inaweirdmo challenge! (Joy.)
In other news, I have returned to a previous Goldfrapp-listening kick. Dear TSA, why can't all of my airport experiences be as soothingly otherworldly as this one?:
Please rectify the situation immediately.
Sincerely,
Sisyphus T. Cog
(Everyone else can take bets on what sort of embarrassing predicament I will get myself into in the comments.)
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