Travel Makes the World Smaller

So, I'm online, kind of. Mom has a wireless connection which the laptop sees, but she doesn't remember the password. I have to ask Mom's tech crew (aka her best friend/our neighbor, Peg) about that. Until then, we have a desktop computer.

Funny how the house has gone back to being a Mac-only place. When I was a kid, we had a Mac because Dad loved them and Dad was the computer literate one and the one with the money. After the divorce, Mom made sure the replacement for our old LCIII was running Windows, because Peg was comfortable doing tech support for those, and there was more software out for them. Now, my uncle Donny gets the computers his office retires, and he's quite happy to pass these off to family. My grandmother's first and only computer was a Mac laptop that pretty much existed only so she could check her email and get pictures from the rest of the family.

Nebraska hasn't changed much, but I've only been here less than 24 hours and seen four family members. That and I have headaches that are probably combinations of not enough water and PMS, so I spent a lot of that time unconscious with the cat curled up next to me. (Geno thinks its great that I'm home because I sleep late and don't mind it if he curls up next to me -- pretty much if I'm sitting on the bed, he's by me. Peppy continues to barely tolerate me.)

Funny story about travel. When I was sitting in the Chicago airport waiting for my flight to board, I heard something that sounded like my stepmother's name being mispronounced*. Sure enough, it was Marjorie, coming back from a review panel or something. We spent about five minutes talking before we had to board. The flight was full, so we couldn't sit near one another. I was in the front, and she was near the back. A shame, because she's the exact opposite of me on flights. I tend to sleep through them, while she can't sleep on a plane, even on international flights.

But, it gets better. On the way off the plane, they were boarding the next flight out. And the last person to get on was my father. He had some grant reviews to do, so was leaving for two days. He waved hello we exchanged greetings, but that was about all the time we had.

So, that means, between those two and my mother being at the airport to drive me home, all three of my parent-figures were in the same place. (I think that last happened at Jenn's wedding, unless you count Dad picking up Ben while Marjorie waited in the car.) I've seen other Cornell grad students on flight before, and I have booked conference flights with other group members, but this is the second time I've met people in the airport on unrelated business. I'm waiting for it to be something really weird, since so far it's all been people who live in that place going to/from it, or going to conferences.

* They always put the accent on the wrong syllable. My name is usually mispronounced by changing one of the letters, which happens far more than it should. Mom's gets a long vowel turned into two short ones. I've made a habit of learning how to listen to these things. (It lets you spot telemarketers, just like the people who are asking for Mister or Missus Mom's-last-name -- even before the divorce Mom kept her maiden name which would confuse the schools.)

Travel Makes the World Smaller

So, I'm online, kind of. Mom has a wireless connection which the laptop sees, but she doesn't remember the password. I have to ask Mom's tech crew (aka her best friend/our neighbor, Peg) about that. Until then, we have a desktop computer.

Funny how the house has gone back to being a Mac-only place. When I was a kid, we had a Mac because Dad loved them and Dad was the computer literate one and the one with the money. After the divorce, Mom made sure the replacement for our old LCIII was running Windows, because Peg was comfortable doing tech support for those, and there was more software out for them. Now, my uncle Donny gets the computers his office retires, and he's quite happy to pass these off to family. My grandmother's first and only computer was a Mac laptop that pretty much existed only so she could check her email and get pictures from the rest of the family.

Nebraska hasn't changed much, but I've only been here less than 24 hours and seen four family members. That and I have headaches that are probably combinations of not enough water and PMS, so I spent a lot of that time unconscious with the cat curled up next to me. (Geno thinks its great that I'm home because I sleep late and don't mind it if he curls up next to me -- pretty much if I'm sitting on the bed, he's by me. Peppy continues to barely tolerate me.)

Funny story about travel. When I was sitting in the Chicago airport waiting for my flight to board, I heard something that sounded like my stepmother's name being mispronounced*. Sure enough, it was Marjorie, coming back from a review panel or something. We spent about five minutes talking before we had to board. The flight was full, so we couldn't sit near one another. I was in the front, and she was near the back. A shame, because she's the exact opposite of me on flights. I tend to sleep through them, while she can't sleep on a plane, even on international flights.

But, it gets better. On the way off the plane, they were boarding the next flight out. And the last person to get on was my father. He had some grant reviews to do, so was leaving for two days. He waved hello we exchanged greetings, but that was about all the time we had.

So, that means, between those two and my mother being at the airport to drive me home, all three of my parent-figures were in the same place. (I think that last happened at Jenn's wedding, unless you count Dad picking up Ben while Marjorie waited in the car.) I've seen other Cornell grad students on flight before, and I have booked conference flights with other group members, but this is the second time I've met people in the airport on unrelated business. I'm waiting for it to be something really weird, since so far it's all been people who live in that place going to/from it, or going to conferences.

* They always put the accent on the wrong syllable. My name is usually mispronounced by changing one of the letters, which happens far more than it should. Mom's gets a long vowel turned into two short ones. I've made a habit of learning how to listen to these things. (It lets you spot telemarketers, just like the people who are asking for Mister or Missus Mom's-last-name -- even before the divorce Mom kept her maiden name which would confuse the schools.)