Rocky Mountain High

I'm supposed to be sleeping right now.  Somehow, however, jet lag hasn't set in yet (or maybe my body's just too confused to rebel), so I'm up, writing instead of drifting into an Ambien-induced slumber. 

Well, I made it!  Yay Colorado!  After 20 hours, five cups of (bad) coffee, four in-flight movies, three flights, two lonely apples sacrificed to the quarantine gods, and a partridge in a pear tree, I'm finally in the land of thin air.  Couldn't be happier.  I actually broke out into a huge grin when I walked off the massive A380 in L.A.  That should tell you something right there - why else would I be happy to be landing in L.A. other than it's one step closer to CO?

This is what I saw when I looked out my window:

Then, when I landed, I saw my fabulous friend Amy, who picked me up in her fabulous little red Audi and heroically drove me (in style) through rush hour traffic to the home of my other fabulous friend, Tetyana, who will be hosting me for the foreseeable future.  Just kidding.  Only until she decides to kick me out.  Then we ate melons and went to the dog park and oh, it was wonderful.

More later.  It's good to be back.