Free Yourself
Yes, those Ukraine girls really knock me out, but I’m heading west and I’m leaving them behind.
I’m taking off for Los Angeles tomorrow to visit my incredible Uncle Joe and his lovely wife for a week of R&R.
As always, I’ve got the pre-vacation, oh-Jesus-I hate-flying jitters, but I’m hoping this passes with a little faith and shit-ton of Xanax.
And, as usual, I’m running through my standard fears and worries.
I’m regretting my decision, I’ve got too much to do, the bills are piling up, it’s too close to Christmas for a vacation, and other such assorted emotional khazerai.
Of course, I’m missing some really cool-sounding events the week I’m gone, but that’s always the way with vacations.
If you leave home for any extended period, you’re bound to miss something because you ain’t there, Einstein.
Can I get “Duh!”?
Then on Thursday I received an e-mail that helped me see life from a different angle.
It was slugged “Date Ukrainian Lady” and it contained a photo of a lovely young woman in black leather overalls—and nothing else—looking teasingly at the camera.
“Free yourself,” the ad copy read. “Let’s have fun!”
Hello, Comrade
Yes, damn it, let’s have fun indeed. Let’s go out to California, forget all my troubles and woes and a have screeching good time.
“Be causal and relax with thousands of gorgeous Russian women!” the fine print said.
Russian women? I was just in the Ukraine a minute ago. What the hell happened? I’m getting jetlag and I haven’t even left my house yet.
There’s a button marked “Go” embedded in the email with a link to God only knows.
I didn’t press it because I don’t want to get involved with creepy dating sites and I don’t have any dirt on Joe Biden.
Naturally today was absolute an hell-fest where just about everything I touched blew up right in my kisser.
It started off early, when I got a staggering bill from the hospital for the surgery I had nearly two years ago.
I spent half the morning with various voices on the phone trying to get them to re-send the bill to the proper insurance company.
Even my commute home tonight was hexed as the normally reliable and comfortable express bus was late and stuffed with bodies. Once again, I’m forced to confess that this was not a good week for my anger management skills.
Oh, Saint Jerome, throw me a bone!
So, yeah, I’m nervous as hell, and feeling all flavors of guilty, but I’m still going on vacation.
That dating email ends with the promise that “13,000 women are online NOW.”
Sorry, ladies, I’ve got a plane to catch.
I’m taking off for Los Angeles tomorrow to visit my incredible Uncle Joe and his lovely wife for a week of R&R.
As always, I’ve got the pre-vacation, oh-Jesus-I hate-flying jitters, but I’m hoping this passes with a little faith and shit-ton of Xanax.
And, as usual, I’m running through my standard fears and worries.
I’m regretting my decision, I’ve got too much to do, the bills are piling up, it’s too close to Christmas for a vacation, and other such assorted emotional khazerai.
Of course, I’m missing some really cool-sounding events the week I’m gone, but that’s always the way with vacations.
If you leave home for any extended period, you’re bound to miss something because you ain’t there, Einstein.
Can I get “Duh!”?
Then on Thursday I received an e-mail that helped me see life from a different angle.
It was slugged “Date Ukrainian Lady” and it contained a photo of a lovely young woman in black leather overalls—and nothing else—looking teasingly at the camera.
“Free yourself,” the ad copy read. “Let’s have fun!”
Hello, Comrade
Yes, damn it, let’s have fun indeed. Let’s go out to California, forget all my troubles and woes and a have screeching good time.
“Be causal and relax with thousands of gorgeous Russian women!” the fine print said.
Russian women? I was just in the Ukraine a minute ago. What the hell happened? I’m getting jetlag and I haven’t even left my house yet.
There’s a button marked “Go” embedded in the email with a link to God only knows.
I didn’t press it because I don’t want to get involved with creepy dating sites and I don’t have any dirt on Joe Biden.
Naturally today was absolute an hell-fest where just about everything I touched blew up right in my kisser.
It started off early, when I got a staggering bill from the hospital for the surgery I had nearly two years ago.
I spent half the morning with various voices on the phone trying to get them to re-send the bill to the proper insurance company.
Even my commute home tonight was hexed as the normally reliable and comfortable express bus was late and stuffed with bodies. Once again, I’m forced to confess that this was not a good week for my anger management skills.
Oh, Saint Jerome, throw me a bone!
So, yeah, I’m nervous as hell, and feeling all flavors of guilty, but I’m still going on vacation.
That dating email ends with the promise that “13,000 women are online NOW.”
Sorry, ladies, I’ve got a plane to catch.
Comments
Have fun soaking up all that sunshine and warmth. Free yourself and have some fun!
Safe travels, buddy! Looking forward to seeing photographs and hearing all about your adventure!
Have a great time in my favorite state! Relax and enjoy that sunny CA weather!
I am soooo happy I took this trip. It’s really breaking up the routine And I am spending time with my dear uncle and his wife —two incredibly lovely people!
Take care, thanks for the support, and I’ll tell you more when I get back!
I kicked it back to the billing department and they’ll get back to me in a month or so.
Meanwhile, I’m taking your advice by relaxing and enjoying this sunny CA weather!
Take care!