Today was the big day when I flew back to Los Angeles. The whole thing was rather unceremonious, and not unlike pulling teeth. I've discovered that the more you love someone, the harder it is to part ways, even if it is just temporary. Everything seems that much more lackluster when that certain someone isn't there to share in the moment with you. Here's a quick and dirty list of some cool aspects of the trip:

  • I ran into some Albuquerque friends at the airport, so it was cool to catch up with them.
  • On the flight to Phoenix I sat next to a chatty female who talked a mile a minute and said "yes" when I asked if I could get a discount for talking to her before booking a stay at her pueblo's new resort.
  • In Phoenix, I got a high five from the cutest pre-toddler ever.

Here's a quick and dirty list of things that, well, sucked:

  • I had to sit next to one Mr. Business Card Strip-Club-Lover on the flight from Phoenix in to Burbank. Although he did provide for interesting text message conversation:
  • Phil: Not liking my seatmate... hetero businessman chauvinist. Ew. Robert: Butch it up a bit! Phil: Oh yeah, so butch in my musical* t-shirt. We'll knock a few back and talk about chicks, I'm sure.

  • I had to return to the house of ill fame that, upon pulling up to at the curb, I realized I loathe with ever fiber of my soul.

Cool news: I got to see some of my friends tonight and we even went for dinner (a perfect excuse to avoid returning to my current place of residence). I also got to see my friend Letizia's one-week-old daughter! She's cute and fabulous, let me tell you.

Other cool news: the house was not burned down, as I was half-expecting. What I wasn't expecting was to arrive home and find my roommate home and back together with the girlfriend who, mere weeks ago, she'd tried to choke with her bare hands. Not that it's cool that they're back together, mind; I'm just thrilled that all my stuff is still here, and more than that, I can't fucking wait to get out of this hellhole. Bitch, I am so done with this place.

*I was wearing my brand spanking new Spamalot t-shirt. Strangely enough, as we were exiting the plane, the dude actually asked me about the show and said he wanted to see it because "I love Monty Python." Sure he does.