Since it is officially Wednesday even though I have not yet been asleep for the night, this is my final day of vacation before returning to the booby hatch. I can't say that I'm eagerly anticipating my return, but I'll make the best of it. My dad and I will catch a plane out of here sometime tomorrow morning. At some point in the future I will probably be allowed to travel alone, but because I haven't stopped throwing up on planes since the infamous incident in fall of this school year, someone, who has usually been my dad, travels with me. I'm not sure if my parents think I haven't figured out the technical how-to's of hurling into a barf bag or if they just worry about being perceived as incompetent or uncaring parents by the airline industry and worry about having a potentally awkward encounter with the CEO of United at a cocktail party. They probably honestly believe the CEO would say something to the effect of, "Oh. You're the parents of that mentally ill child who is allowed to fly unaccompanied even though she vomits non-stop from the moment the plane leaves the runway until it touches down." This is, of course, an exaggeration; on my last flight, I had very minimal medication and still threw up only twice. Furthermore, I have thoroughly mastered the subtle nuances of the barf bag and am quite adept at upchucking in such a way as to create minimal disturbance for my fellow passengers. Further still, since we usually take the same flights to and from our home, the airline personnel have begun to recognize us. If there is an availiblity for an upgrade into first class, it usually goes to us because of my gastric tendencies.
I won't do anything terribly exciting today. My mom isn't yet driving following her surgery, so we're basically confined to the house. My brother, who has a driver's license, offered to stay home from school for the day so that he could serve as our chaffeur, but my parents wouldn't give him the day off. I'll do laundry for myself and everyone else in the house, and my mom and I will have our choice from the many scintillating offerings daytime television provides. Other than "Judge Alex," nothing will be all that exciting.
Yesterday's "Judge Alex" case featured a dispute over a driver having to slam on her brakes because a small dog wandered into the street in front of her, causing the dog riding in her front passenger seat to strike and crack her windshield. The "Judge Alex" Facebook page was filled with irate posters clamoring about the negligent care the dog received by virtue of being allowed to ride in the front seat of a car. I have a golden retriever that I love at least as much as I love most members of my family, but I do feel that these would-be animal rights advocates are taking things a bit too far. Flame me for being an uncaring #%^*@ if you must, but we're only two generations removed from babies being able to sit unrestrained in the front passenger seat. The notion that a dog must have special restraint to ride in a car is just a bit much for me.