Squid Smoothie Recipe P. 1

I'm going to laundry list the last while. No other way to do it. Settle on in, this'll be a long one.

Last you heard from the Rosenberg Clan, Iz had been up barfing all night, Mali had been barfing occasionally, Leelo had been barfing intermittently, and I had started barfing too, though not from my mouth. And we were supposed to be going to Atlanta in a few hours.

By mid-day, Iz insisted she was fine. So fine that she issued and won a BK kids' meal challenge. Mali declined to eat from anything that wasn't attached to my chest, and I decided that the best way to stop an overly productive output system was to cut off input. We made it to Atlanta just fine. Red Eye: no problem. Transfer at Dallas: no problem, and in fact my psychic Nano shuffled up some cheery Ly1e Lovett for me.

Atlanta was extra-groovy. If they could do away with their summer heat and humidity, I'd consider relocating. Dee's lovely home is within equally lovely walking distance of not one but two gelaterias, a spa (to which I was sent for the best massage and pedicure of my life, thanks chicas), Thai food, basically all those things we Gen Xers refuse to live without and about which we riducule those who do not understand that they are rights rather than privileges (I jest, but only slightly).

To be continued later. I need to go read at Iz's school, and afterwards look at houses with the rational Ep and my barracuda of a real estate agent, as Seymour and I have decided that it may be both easier and cheaper to move rather than build.

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